


Wine, Women, and Swords

by pamz



Series: Diana's New World Zorro Facebook Challenges [1]
Category: Zorro (TV 1990)
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Challenge Response, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Language, F/M, Fade to black sex, Oral Sex, Seduction, non-major character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9696173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamz/pseuds/pamz
Summary: "Too Much Wine" Challenge Story.  A beautiful widow bearing a mysterious letter for Diego turns his world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Too Much Wine Challenge story as suggested by Diana aka knotheadsrus on the New World Zorro Fanfiction Facebook page in 2014. Each story had to include: 1) someone drinking too much wine, 2) someone getting a new sword, 3) a sword fight, 4) an argument between friends, and 5) someone must kiss a stranger.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is an amateur, not-for-profit publication produced solely for the entertainment of other Zorro fans and is not intended to infringe upon any rights of Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions Inc., the estate of Johnston McCulley, or anyone else.

Diego de la Vega and his father, Don Alejandro strolled into the Taverna Victoria one very warm summer evening. The place was filled nearly to the rafters with customers. All of them must be trying to escape the heat, Diego mused. 

He walked up to the bar where Victoria was wiping out a glass. "Two lemonades, _por favor_ ," he requested, smiling down at her.

"We're out of lemonade," she said briskly.

"Orange juice?" Diego asked, his smile fading somewhat.

"Out of that too," she replied as she picked up another cup and placed it with the others.

"What do you have to drink?" queried Diego, deciding to cut to the chase.

"Water or wine." Victoria pointed to two pitchers on the counter. She tipped her head to bottles on the shelves behind her with a knowing little smile. "Unless you are interested in tequila or whiskey?"

"Two waters then," he declared, ignoring her teasing about his teetotalism. He started to take a glass from the top of her neat stack.

"Looks like your father found his own refreshment."

Diego turned around and saw the elder de la Vega was sitting with some of his friends, one of which was pouring a large amount of wine into a glass in front of Don Alejandro. Facing Victoria once again, Diego poured himself a glass of water before strolling over to the table to join his father.

" _Buenas noches_ , Diego," said Don Sebastian. The other three men sitting there all raised their cups in greeting. 

" _Salud_." Diego wasn't sure if Don Esteban or Don Fernando had spoken as they all lifted their arms higher before taking a drink.

"It certainly looks like you are celebrating tonight," declared Diego. He took a sip of his water.

"Indeed, indeed," Don Esteban said. "Today is my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Twenty-five years of wedded bliss."

"To thirty years!" called out Don Arturo.

The men, including Don Alejandro, emptied their glasses. 

"Um, shouldn't you be home, celebrating with your. . .um, wife?" asked Diego naively.

"Have you met my wife, Diego?" inquired Don Esteban. Diego nodded; of course, everyone in the pueblo knew Doña Carmen. "Then you know why I am here."

The tipsy don guffawed loudly at his own wit. More wine was poured as the others all laughed heartily. With a shake of his head, Diego clapped a hand on his father's shoulder then left to go find more congenial and less inebriated company.

Several hours later, Diego sat with Sergeant Mendoza, listening to yet again one of the lancer's far-fetched tales of his military service, he noticed the noise from the table where the elder caballeros were had grown quieter. Glancing over, he saw that at least two of the dons had passed out and the rest, his father included, were swaying in their seats.

"Excuse me, Sergeant," he said as he got up and walked over to the group of old men. 

"Hey, Diego." The elder de la Vega's speech slurred as he tried to stand up, faltered, then sat back down.

Victoria came upon the scene then, the smile in her eyes warring with the disapproving set of her mouth. Diego had to admit it was sort of funny, the leading caballeros of the pueblo drunker than the worst vaqueros after the spring round-up. 

"Why don't we let them sleep it off here tonight?" the innkeeper suggested. "I don't think any of them are capable staying on a horse right now."

"I suspect you are right, Señorita," Diego agreed.

The next hour was spent rousing the intoxicated men, convincing them they were in no shape to go to their respective haciendas, and helping them up to the rooms upstairs. Once they were all tucked in for the night, Diego and Victoria strolled back downstairs.

"Well, I better be heading home," Diego said as Victoria made her way behind the bar. "I'll be back first thing in the morning to see how father is doing."

" _Gracias_ , Diego," she said. " _Buenas noches_."

" _Buenas noches_."

Diego smiled wistfully to himself as he walked away from her and toward the door. As he reached out for the handle, the door opened, allowing in a gust of wind along with two exhausted looking women, both covered from head to toe in black garments.

" _Hola_ ," a startled Diego said in greeting. "May I help you?"

"Are you the landlord?" inquired the younger of the two.

"No, I am," Victoria announced as she glided forward. "Welcome to the pueblo de Los Angeles. I am Victoria Escalante. Please, come inside."

The women stepped across the tavern's threshold as Diego held the door for them. "I'm sorry but I only have one room left," Victoria apologized once the newcomers came to a halt in the middle of the room. "I usually don't get guests this late."

"Our ship didn't arrive at San Pedro until this evening, then our carriage broke down a few miles from here and we had to wait while the driver repaired it," said the woman who had spoken earlier. 

"Well, let's hope your luck has changed for the better," Diego declared with a polite smile.

" _Gracias_ , although I daresay it already has." The woman then pulled back the hood of her dusty traveling cloak, revealing glossy raven curls, deep brown eyes, and flawless porcelain skin. She was the most stunning woman Diego had ever seen and his body reacted as if he were an inexperienced boy. Mentally scolding himself, he listened as the beautiful newcomer continued to speak.

"I am Señora Murillo, and this is my mother, Señora Gomez." The older woman nodded as she was introduced. "One room will be fine."

"Are you hungry?" asked Victoria tersely as she moved behind the counter and lifted a key from its hook. "I have some supper left. I could warm it. . ."

"No, just some tea, if you have it, _por favor_ ," replied Señora Murillo, taking the proffered key. 

Diego wondered at the scowl marring Victoria's usually lovely features as she ducked into the kitchen.. Surely she wasn't upset about the señoras' late arrival, he mused as he listened to her banging and clanging about as she prepared the requested tea.

Diego turned his attention back to her guests, noting that the women were each clutching large overstuffed satchels.

"Here, let me take those up to your room," he offered, reaching out his hand.

" _Gracias_." The pair relinquished their luggage to him. Señora Murillo beamed at him gratefully as her fingers grazed his, causing him to feel oddly dizzy. Slightly shaking his head as if to clear it, Diego then carried the heavy bags to the top of the staircase to the last unoccupied room.

The mother and daughter had followed and Diego set down one of the satchels to open the door before permitting the women to enter the room before him. He placed their luggage at the foot of the bed.

Stepping back out of the room, Diego said, "If there is anything else you need, please let Victoria know. _Buenas noches, señoras_."

"Wait, señor," said Señora Murillo, placing her gloved hand on his arm. The contact made his skin tingle under the linen of his shirt sleeve. He wanted to pull away, run away, anything to stop the wholly inappropriate thoughts racing through his mind. Gritting his teeth, he resisted both the impulse to jump backward and the more disturbing impulse to take her into his arms.

" _Si?_ " he managed to inquire in a strangled voice.

"Do you work here?" she asked. With a glance at her mother, she continued, "Are you Señor Escalante?"

"Oh, no," Diego replied with a chuckle. As surreptitiously as he could, he let his arm fall to his side. His inner turmoil lessened, though not by much. She was still staring up at him with her dark chocolate colored eyes, eyes in which he could easily lose himself. "Señorita Escalante and I are not. . . I mean she's not my wife. She's. . . She's just a very good friend of my family." He said the last sentence in a single breath, hoping he did not sound as gauche as he felt. 

The señora smiled at him, raising her right eyebrow. Feeling even more foolish at the realization that he had not yet introduced himself, he bowed and stated, "Diego de la Vega, at your service."

A strange expression, something akin to triumph, passed over her face so fleetingly Diego thought he must have imagined it. 

"Well, _gracias_ , Señor de la Vega," she said, a mask of politeness now firmly in place. " _Buenas noches_."

" _De nada_ ," he replied, not understanding the disappointment he was experiencing, even though he knew he must go. " _Buenas noches_."

He turned to leave, nearly crashing into Victoria as she stood next to him, holding the laden tea tray. He hadn't even noticed her presence until that moment.

"Oh, sorry," he muttered inanely as he stepped aside and allowed her to enter the bedchamber. She let the tray drop heavily onto the small table by the bed. The pitcher holding the cream nearly toppled and drops of tea spewed forth from the pot. 

"Will there be anything else," Victoria said, through clenched teeth Diego noted, as she shot him a dark look. He still had no idea why she was so annoyed. She must just be tired, he speculated. 

"No, thank you," Señora Murillo responded. 

"Good night then," said Victoria, more than a little ungraciously. She swirled about and headed out of the room. She was halfway down the stairs when she suddenly twirled back around. "Are you coming, Diego? Or do you did change your mind about staying the night?"

Diego snapped out of the fog that seemed to be encircling his head. "No. . . I mean yes. . . I mean. . ." He stopped speaking, took a deep breath, then said, "Yes, I'm coming. No, I'm not staying." He jogged down steps to where Victoria was waiting. "I'll be back first thing in the morning," he said, echoing his earlier statement before the two women had arrived.

"I just bet you will," Victoria muttered in a low bitter tone Diego was sure he was not supposed to have heard, before saying firmly, "Good night, Diego."

She continued her descent and strode into the kitchen without a backward glance. With a small shrug, Diego headed toward the tavern's exit. As he opened the door, he darted his eyes up to the top of the stairs, catching one last view of Señora Murillo before she closed her bedroom door.

His groin tightened uncomfortably. What was wrong with him? He was in love with. . . with. . . Victoria. Yes, he was in love with Victoria. _Then why_ , a little voice in his head whispered, _does the señora stir your blood like no other woman you've met before has_.

She doesn't, he scolded himself, she couldn't. She might be the most beautiful woman he have ever laid his eyes on, but he learned long ago that beauty was only skin deep. Victoria, she was beautiful both inside and out. She was the woman he loved. Victoria.

He stepped out onto the tavern porch and breathed in the crisp night air. He conjured up an image of his querida as he walked over to his horse; her glossy raven curls, her deep chocolate eyes, her porcelain-like skin. 

It was only after he had settled himself in his saddle that he realized that somehow, some way, his vision of Victoria had seamlessly, shockingly, had slid into a likeness of Señora Murillo.

Z Z Z


	2. Chapter 2

The sun had barely risen over the eastern horizon the next morning as Diego and Felipe rode into the pueblo. Felipe was going to escort Don Alejandro back to the hacienda, while Diego was going to stay in town to work on the newspaper. The arrival of a ship in San Pedro always brought news from the outside world, and the young man whom Diego had hired to gather that information was probably already on his way to Los Angeles. 

As he and Felipe tied their mounts to the railing in front of the tavern, Diego yawned. He had spent what had been left of the night tossing and turning, with fevered dreams of both Victoria and Señora Murillo disturbing what little sleep he had received. Dreams that made him feel uncomfortable and guilty.

But all that was driven from his mind as a loud clanging sound came from inside the inn, followed by raucous shouting. With a smile, Diego turned to see Felipe's eyebrows raised with alarm. "I think Victoria is giving her guests a rather vigorous wake-up call this morning," he said with a chuckle.

He opened the door and was greeted with chaos. The old caballeros, who had been so lively the evening before, were mere shadows of their former selves. They came stumbling out of their rooms, most clutching their heads.

"Señorita, _por favor_." Don Arturo pleaded softly as he made his way down the staircase. "Stop that infernal racket."

Don Alejandro who following closely on his amigo's heels, grasping the wall like a lifeline, begged in a bit more strident tone, " _Madre de Dios_ , Victoria. Have some pity on some poor fools."

The lovely innkeeper gave the large pot she held one more whack with a wooden spoon. "At least you realize you are old fools," she said smugly. Her eyes darted upward and her grin grew even wider.

Diego followed her gaze and saw the two women step out of their dormer, displeasure apparent on both their faces. A jolt of lust shot through him as he singled out Señora Murillo, who looked none the worse for wear for her rude awakening.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Victoria said as her only female guests reached the bottom of the stairs. "I didn't mean to wake you, too." Diego seemed to be the only one present to notice the señorita's apology wasn't at all sincere.

"That's quite all right," said Señora Murillo. "We are early risers anyway." She smiled sweetly at the innkeeper. 

With a huff, Victoria swirled around, disappearing into the kitchen. Within a few seconds, she returned with a tray stacked with mugs and a steaming pot. "Coffee?"

The elder de la Vega and his friends all raised their hands. The men made their way to a table, sitting down before Victoria placed the hot beverage in front of them. The mother and daughter sat at another table some distance from the others. Felipe glanced up at Diego before going to join Don Alejandro's already crowded group.

With a casualness he did not feel, Diego sauntered over to the women's table. "May I join you, señoras?" he asked, the words nearly sticking in his throat. 

"Why, certainly, Don Diego," said Señora Murillo. "That would be lovely."

Diego seated himself across from the ladies. Taking a deep breath, he glanced up as Victoria came over to them and banged three cups on the hard wooden surface. 

"Coffee?" she asked through clenched teeth. 

" _Si, por_. . ." Diego's response was interrupted by Señora Murillo. "We would like tea. If it's no trouble."

"No, no trouble at all." Victoria spun away and marched across the room. Diego looked down at his empty cup then at the curtains leading into the kitchens. Why was Victoria acting so crossly? he wondered as he resigned himself to having a cup of tea rather than coffee that morning.

"And what are you doing here so early, Don Diego?" asked Señora Murillo, drawing his attention back to his companions.

"To check on my father," Diego replied distractedly. With a wave of his hand, he indicated the caballeros at the other table. "He and his amigos were. . .uh, celebrating last night, and decided to stay here." He then realized that she had called him ‘Don Diego' twice, and began speculating on why she would do that, when he was struck by another question.

"Murillo?" he inquired aloud. "You wouldn't be related to Antonio Murillo, would you? He was a friend of mine at university."

"He was my husband," she said solemnly. "He died nearly two years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Diego said contritely. "I didn't know. My deepest condolences, señora." He then knew why she had addressed him by his honorific. "Antonio was a fine fellow."

" _Si_ , he was," the señora sniffed, tossing a quick look at her mother. "He spoke of you often, Don Diego."

"Kindly, I hope."

"Oh, yes," she stated promptly before smiling slyly at him. "Although I could hardly say differently now, could I?" 

"I suppose not," Diego agreed with a laugh. Both women joined in his amusement.

A throat being cleared loudly caught their attention and all three of them glanced up to see Victoria standing there with a pot of the requested tea. "Oh, _gracias_ , señorita," said Señora Murillo. "We are absolutely parched this morning. We just learned that Don Diego here was a friend of my dear departed husband. Isn't that the most amazing coincidence?"

"Yes. Fascinating." Victoria's clipped answer was almost as abrupt as her filling their mugs. She plopped a couple of silver containers on the table. "Sugar and milk. Will there be anything else?" She had stashed her tray under her arm, looking as if she couldn't wait to leave.

"Oh, this will be fine," replied Señora Murillo. She turned her gaze back to Diego as she added a scoop of sugar to her tea as Victoria left in a huff. "Don Diego, you must tell us all about the trouble you and my husband got up to at university."

"There isn't much to tell, Señora," Diego declared before taking a sip from his cup. "And you can just call me Diego."

"Oh, then you must call me Violetta," she said, reaching out and lightly touching his arm.

Diego's mind began reeling from the intimate, flirtatious gesture. As politely as he could, he jerked his arm away from her touch. "Very well, then," he managed to say. "I'm sorry I lost contact with Antonio. I had no idea he had even married."

"He was a terrible correspondent," said Violetta. "It doesn't surprise me at all that you didn't know."

"Tell me how you two met," Diego suggested. Then appalled by his lack of delicacy, he added, "unless, of course, it's too painful."

"Not at all," she replied. Violetta then launched into the tale of how she had met his friend, which evolved into a discussion of Madrid and the university. 

So absorbing was their conversation that Diego didn't notice his father standing next to him until Don Alejandro clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"Diego, Felipe and I are heading back to the hacienda now," the old don announced. "Are you coming with us?"

"Uh, no. I'm going to put a few hours in at the newspaper," Diego answered, noting the other caballeros had already left. "A ship arrived at San Pedro last night." Then realizing the elder de la Vega was staring expectantly at the two ladies, Diego quickly introduced them.

"Charmed to have made your acquaintance, señoras," his father said, raising Señora Gomez's hand to his lips. "Will you be in Los Angeles for long?"

"We're not sure," Violetta responded, glancing at her mother. "We were just passing through on our way to Monterey and remembered that my late husband's old friend lived here and thought we might call on him."

"Well, I hope you both enjoy your visit." Don Alejandro patted Diego on the back. " _Adios_."

" _Adios_ , Father."

The old don and Felipe departed the tavern, the elder de la Vega still a little unsteady on his feet. Diego turned to his companions.

"Well, we won't keep you from your duties, Diego," said Violetta. "Mother, let's take that stroll around this charming pueblo that you suggested earlier."

"I could guide you, if you wish," Diego proposed before he could stop himself from making the impetuous offer. The last thing he needed was to spend more time in Señora Murillo's presence. She disturbed him in a way that made him feel like he no longer had control of himself or his emotions.

"Oh, that's quite all right," said Señora Gomez. "I'm sure we can find our way about. Come, _hija_."

The pair of women rose from their seats and gathered their belongings. Diego, also got to his feet, then watched them as they, too, exited the building. His whole body reacted as Violetta turned just as she was stepping out the door and smiled at him. He shut his eyes, hoping to blot the tantalizing image from his brain.

"You two seemed awful cosy."

Victoria's sarcastic comment broke through his failed attempt to clear the beautiful young widow from his head. Diego opened his eyes to see the bitterness marring the innkeeper's lovely face. "She was married to a friend of mine from university," he explained. "We were merely speaking about our shared knowledge of Antonio and of Madrid."

"Of course." She had been roughly placing the empty tea cups onto her tray as he spoke. Without another word, she swirled and walked away. What was wrong with her. . .? Diego's mouth fell open as he finally figured it out. She was jealous!

"You're jealous," he blurted out.

She came to a halt before the curtained partition before whirling around to face him. "What?" she replied indignantly. "Don't be sill. . ."

Diego's long legs covered the distance between them in just a couple of steps. "I'm not being ‘silly' as you always so glibly put it," he said acidly.

"Why would I be jealous of you and that. . .that. . .?" 

"The young beautiful widow of an old friend of mine?" Diego filled in the blank for her before she insulted the good woman's character. "I could think of a reason or two." He stared at her, willing her to admit that she was indeed envious of the fact another woman could be interested in him.

Victoria tossed her head contemptuously. "Is she beautiful? I didn't notice."

"You would have to be blind not to notice," he contended. His lips drew up into a smirk. "I find her to be quite stunning myself. In fact, she rather reminds of someone else. Someone I admire and respect."

"Oh." Setting the tray down onto the bar, she gazed up at him, her expression quite taken aback. "You mean that woman you love, the one you told Zafira about. I didn't realize that you still. . .well. . ."

"Carried a torch for her?" Diego prompted again. He really ought to feel like a cad for taunting her this way, but he was tired of her rapturous rambles about Zorro on top of her rude dismissals of him as someone she could love. It bothered him she couldn't see what was right in front of her.

Victoria stepped behind the counter, putting away the milk and sugar. "Don't you have a paper to write or an experiment to do or something?" she asked petulantly.

" _Si_ ," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "You haven't answered my question though."

"Ha, as if I would," she said, slamming her tray back down on the bar. "Why would I care who you want to spend your time with? It's certainly none of my business."

"You're right, it isn't," Diego declared. "So why do you act so ill-tempered any time a woman pays the slightest bit of attention to me."

"I. . .I. . ." Victoria stammered, her eyes snapping with anger. She thrust her arm toward the door, pointing at it. "Get out. Just get out." She turned away but then spun back around to glare at him. "And don't come back until you apologize for your boorish behavior."

With that said, she stomped into the kitchen. Evidently he had struck a nerve, one, if he was guessing correctly, she hadn't even known she had. But she did have a point. He had behaved boorishly. 

But an apology would have to wait. He had other important matters to deal with first.

Z Z Z

It was over an hour later when a knock sounded upon the door of the Guardian. His correspondent had arrived only moments after Diego had reached the office himself, bringing several pages of notes and a handful of old newspapers that the ship's captain had given him. Diego had immediately set to perusing the information to see what he could use in his next edition.

He wondered for a moment who could be disturbing him, but then remembered he was expecting a parcel from Spain. It must have aboard the newly docked ship, he surmised. Nearly a year ago, he had ordered a sword forged of Toledo steel for Felipe. Luckily, it had arrived before the lad's eighteenth birthday the following month. Diego knew the date was not Felipe's true birthday, but the day he had found the frightened young boy alone on the battlefield. But it was the day they had decided to celebrate the boy's passing years.

Rising from his desk, he strode over and opened the door. Señora Murillo stood on the other side of the threshold. Diego took a step back, as if warding off the enchantment the woman seemed to place on him whenever she was near. 

"Aren't you going to let me in, Diego?" she asked in a teasing tone.

He shook himself and moved out of the way. "Yes, of course," he replied, holding the door wide. "Sorry."

The widow walked into the room, looking about as Diego close the door. Realizing she must be searching for somewhere to sit down, he jumped over to a chair piled high with books, and grabbed the stack into his arms.

"Please, have a seat," he offered, tipping his head toward the now empty chair. Not waiting to see if she complied, Diego glanced about for a spot to unload the tomes he was clutching. Spying a clear space on the floor near his desk, he set the books down then turned to gaze at the señora once more. He knew he should say something but he had no idea what. His trousers began to grow tight and he plopped himself down behind his desk before he embarrassed himself.

"Diego," she started. "I haven't told you the full story of why I'm here in Los Angeles."

"So you're not just passing through?" Diego choked out. "And decided to seek me out?"

"Oh, I definitely came here to seek you out," Violetta answered earnestly. "I desperately need your help."

"I will certainly do all that I can," he assured her, "if it is in my power to do so."

"I do so hope it is," the young widow said as she reached into her reticule and pulled out an envelope. She paused before continuing "I need you to get this letter to Zorro."

Z Z Z


	3. Chapter 3

Diego sat paralyzed in his chair. Why would this woman have a message for Zorro? And why would she come to him to see it delivered? Shaking himself out of his shock, he asked her those very questions.

"It does seem odd," Violetta agreed. "But the explanation is simple. Antonio was on his way to see you when he died. He. . ."

"What?" Diego interrupted, surprised once again. "I had no idea. I hadn't heard from him since I left university. Why would he come to visit me?"

"I'm not sure," Señora Murillo said. "He got a letter from another old school friend one day and the next day told me he was leaving for California. He gave me this to give to you if something happened to him." She reached into her handbag, bringing out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "His ship was lost at sea during a storm near Cape Horn. There were no survivors."

"Again, you have my deepest sympathy, Señora," commiserated Diego. "It must have been very important for my friend to risk his life to come see me. Who was this classmate that set off such a tragic series of events?"

"Domingo Maldonado."

Diego had been wrong in thinking he could not be astonished anymore that day. That name was one he had not heard since he had left Madrid. And one he had hoped to never hear again. Maldonado had never been his friend. Oh, no, quite the opposite. The two had been rivals since the first day they had set foot on campus together.

"Diego?" He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of his companion's voice. She was staring at him curiously.

"Um. . .Maldonado?" he queried as indifferently as he could. "I. . .uh. . .remember someone by that name. He and Antonio kept in contact?"

"No," said the widow. "That's why I thought it so strange that my husband would leave so abruptly after hearing from him."

"Strange, indeed," Diego agreed. "I am guessing that you never saw the contents of the missive from Maldonado?"

"No, Antonio didn't share it with me and he took the letter with him," she confirmed. She glanced at the envelope in her hand. "I haven't read this one either."

He could tell she was telling the truth as its flap appeared to be unmolested. Standing, he extended his hand. "You have my word that this letter will reach Zorro."

She stared at the missive one last time then placed it into his hand. " _Gracias_ , Diego. I knew I could trust you."

" _De nada_ ," he replied, slightly uncomfortable by her admission. "Well. . ." Another knock at the door saved Diego from having to dismiss the señora. Diego walked over to the door and opened it. This time the person on the other side was not so alarming as it was a messenger carrying a suspiciously long package. "Ah, my order from Spain."

The transaction took mere seconds to complete, the young man sent on his way with a generous tip. Diego set the parcel aside before turning his attention back to the beautiful widow.

"So do you think you can deliver the letter to Zorro today?" she asked.

"It's not that simple, Señora. Zorro is highly unpredictable. I really have no more knowledge of his whereabouts than anyone else in the pueblo."

"Oh, but surely. . ." she began.

"It's true," he interrupted her. "In fact, I have only met him once or twice." He nodded his head in the direction of the tavern. "You would be better off leaving the letter with Señorita Escalante. It is rumored that he visits her from time to time. Or the alcalde. Zorro has dropped in on him unannounced on more than one occasion." 

"Oh, but Antonio said I was to give it to you," she replied. "He stressed that upon me." She glanced up at him with an expression of dismay and added, "Plus I get the feeling the señorita doesn't like me."

"I'm sure you are just imagining that," Diego declared, not sure why he felt he had to defend Victoria's hostility toward Violetta. "She's really a lovely woman once you get to know her."

The widow raised her eyebrows as if she didn't quite believe that. "Of course," she said. "It is just that I have to admit I am rather interested in what my husband could have written that made him endanger his life." Violetta took a step toward Diego. "I miss him so much," she stated in a quavery tone. "He meant the world to me." 

She looked up at him woefully. "I have been so terribly lonely since he. . . Since he. . ." The widow threw herself against Diego, and began sobbing on his chest. Lust shot through him like a bullet.

_Madre de Dios_ , he thought as he encircled his arms around her. Here she was, seeking comfort, and he could do nothing but think impure thoughts. As he was berating himself for acting like a cad, she glanced up at him through tear-stained lashes, bewitching him even further. Feeling as helpless as a newborn foal, he lowered his lips to hers.

Violetta's arms snaked around his neck as she enthusiastically returned his kiss. Diego brought his hands up to caressed her breasts as his tongue plunged into her mouth again and again. With a soft moan, she tightened her hold as he lowered his hands to cup her bottom, pressing her against his arousal.

The loud whinny of a horse just outside the office brought Diego to his senses. He thrust the widow away, unable to look her in the eyes.

"My deepest apologies, Señora," he murmured as he struggled to regain control. "I don't know what came over me."

"No need to apologize, Diego," Violetta said demurely. "I. . .I should go." Reaching for the doorknob, she turned to look at him. "Please, don't forget the letter," she reminded him.

"I won't," he promised, glad to be given something else to dwell on. He moved ahead of her and opened the door for her. She stepped through the portal and he followed her outside.

"Thank you again, Diego," she said before rising up on her toes and kissing his cheek. With that, she hurried away across the plaza. 

Diego watched her go, hypnotized by the swaying of her skirts. Then with a sense of foreboding, he raised his eyes and saw Victoria standing on the porch of her inn, a tray with a pitcher and several glasses in her hands. If looks could kill, thought Diego, he would be lying dead on the ground. Obviously she had witnessed the end of his encounter with Violetta and hadn't like what she had seen. She probably would truly kill him if she found out about the other kiss.

So much for her earlier protestations. She _was_ jealous. Mischievously, he smiled and waved at her, wondering how he could get her to admit she had feelings for him. Feelings that went much deeper than just the friendship she claimed she felt for him. 

His lightened mood dissipated as swiftly as it had arrived though as he caught a glimpse of Señora Murillo as she entered the tavern. Once again his body reacted as though he had never before seen such a stunning woman. 

Vainly trying to clear his mind of her, he vowed Zorro would pay visit Victoria that very evening. Obviously, he needed a reminder of who truly held his heart. With a sigh he headed back inside the office. The letter addressed to his alter ego was still lying on his desk. Deciding he would read it later in the cave, he tucked it into his jacket pocket before getting back to the business of publishing a newspaper.

Z Z Z

It wasn't until much later in the evening Diego sat at the carved mahogany desk in the cavern under the de la Vega hacienda, staring at the still unopened envelope he held in his hands. His curiosity had tempted him all day, keen to learn its contents. Yet another part of him restrained itself, worried that opening the letter would be akin to opening a Pandora's box.

Aware he was procrastinating, Diego examined the missive, noting the word ‘Zorro' was scrawled in an untidy and unfamiliar hand. He did not remember ever seeing Antonio's handwriting in all the years they spent together at university. His old amigo had not been much of a scholar, preferring athletics and socializing to academics. In fact, Murillo had also been a pupil of Sir Edmund Kendall, as had Domingo Maldonado. Praying that connection had nothing to do with the weathered packet in his hand, Diego reached for his letter opener and deftly sliced the top of the envelope.

He extracted the single piece of paper and with a modicum of dread, unfolded it. No sooner than he had done so, he heard footsteps making their way toward him, prefacing the arrival of Felipe. The lad landed at the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the stall where Toronado stood, munching on hay before checking himself. He looked over at Diego with a raised brow and a nod to the letter.

"It's nothing," Diego lied, not sure of the sudden urge to keep the note from the youth. "Just a letter from an old friend." He stood up, stuffing the missive into his desk drawer.

Felipe gestured toward the black stallion, explaining that he noticed something amiss with one of the Andalusian's hooves. With a sigh, Diego rose from his chair, then walked over to where the youth stood waiting. So much for Zorro paying a call on Victoria tonight, he thought, wondering why the delay filled him with relief instead of disappointment. Shaking his head, he examined the hoof Felipe held up for inspection.

Z Z Z

It was late the next morning when Diego tapped in the last nail of the new horseshoe. The old one had evidently caught on something and had pulled loose, damaging the shoe in the process. And since they could hardly take Zorro's mount to the local farrier, they had to do the work themselves.

"There, that should do it," he said before setting the hammer down. He then lowered the stallion's leg and let the horse test out his new footwear. "Good as new, old boy," announced Diego, giving Toronado an affectionate rub on the nose. Then turning to Felipe, he said, "Well, I'm off to the pueblo with Father. I should be back before supper and then after we can test our handiwork here." 

Felipe nodded then went to work currying the horse's coat. Giving the Andalusian another pat, Diego turned and left the cave.

Z Z Z

The midnight black stallion tore up the turf as it headed for the pueblo de Los Angeles, its black-clad rider leaning low over his mount's neck. The new horseshoe was holding up well, Zorro thought as they reached the outskirts of town. Avoiding the plaza, he steered Toronado to the back alleyway that led to the tavern's rear entrance.

Seconds later, he was standing inside the deserted kitchen where he hoped Victoria might still be. A feeling of dread went through him as he realized she must have already retired for the night and he would have to accost her in her bedroom. Not a good idea, he told himself as he scaled the wall leading to the second floor, not a good idea at all.

Soundlessly he climbed over onto the balcony and headed toward Victoria's quarters. Just as he was about to open the door, he heard a soft scuffing sound behind and spun around to see Violetta there, clad only in a nightgown. Madre de Dios, its thin fabric hid nothing. His trousers began to tighten uncomfortably.

"Are you Zorro?" she asked, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"At your service, Señora," he replied, bowing stiffly.

"I thought I heard a noise," she explained. "I never thought it would be you." She glanced up at him with the same expression she had used the day before which had melted his resolve. "Has Don Diego given you a letter yet?" she asked breathlessly.

"A letter?" he feigned ignorance. "No. Why would he?" He only half listened as she once again recounted the story behind her husband's curious missive. He was more worried the longer they stood outside Victoria's bedroom, the better the chance they would either wake the other woman up or he might once again lose his head and kiss the beautiful widow.

". . .so you see, it is very important that Diego get this letter to you," Violetta said with a wave of her hand. That action caused her breasts to strain against the diaphanous gown she was wearing, clearly outlining her pert nipples. Zorro fought the rising tide of lust that filled him, causing him to harden even more. He heard someone moan and realized it was him. _Maldita sea_. He tried to focus on what she was saying.

"You must go at once to get it from him." she implored.

" _Si_ ," he replied, not quite sure what he was agreeing to do. He would have agreed to fly to the moon if she would just back to her room and out of his sight, if not out of his mind.

Suddenly the door they were standing in front of flew open, and a tousled Victoria appeared, wearing a very displeased expression and equally transparent night attire. Zorro darkly glanced upward for a second before turning his attention back to his companions.

Victoria could not believe what she was seeing. The man she loved and that. . .that. . . hussy who trying to get her hooks into Diego, rendezvousing outside her room. And the widow was only wearing her nightgown and Zorro. . . She looked him up and down, pausing as her eyes swept over his groin. A red haze settled over her.

"Get out!" she shrieked. She stepped toward the couple, raising her fists. Whether she intended to strike him or her, she would never know, because Zorro grabbed both of her wrists. "Let go of me, you _cerdo_!" Victoria struggled as she shouted, "How dare you? I thought you. . . Ooo. . ." She began kicking at his shins with her bare feet. "Ouch." Pain shot up her leg as she connected with his leather clad leg.

"Victoria," he said in a low tone, "this is not what it seems." He tossed a glance over his shoulder at the widow who was standing there, looking on with wide-eyed innocence. "I came here tonight to see you, not her," he explained.

She didn't believe him, her fear (irrational as it was) the other woman was not only attempting to steal Diego from her but now Zorro as well, overruled her common sense. She tried to pull away from him again and this time he let her go. Taking a deep breath, she realized the three of them were no long alone, and most of her other guests were peering out of their rooms, staring in various degrees of shock and fascination. Oh, perfect, she thought, thinking of the gossip that would spread like wildfire through the pueblo the next day. A wanted criminal caught with two nearly naked women. . . The gossips would have a field day with that little tidbit.

"Just get out," she reiterated, all the anger leaving her as she gazed up at Zorro. She then turned to the señora. "And I want you and your mother out of here first thing in the morning."

"But we have nowhere else to go."

"Not my problem," said Victoria. With one last look at the man she thought loved her, she stepped back into her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Zorro glanced at Violetta apologetically, shrugging his shoulders. Taking a couple of steps, he hopped onto the balcony railing and leaped forward, catching the chandelier. He landed on the floor below and disappeared through the kitchen.

"Well, that was truly a disaster," he muttered as he settled himself into the saddle on Toronado's back. He nudged the horse and they took off at a gallop. Not only had he managed to infuriate Victoria even more, he mused as he sped across the countryside, he had fallen even farther under the beautiful young widow's spell. 

He needed to find out what that letter contained that was so important. And hopefully by doing so, he would be able to dispel whatever mysterious enchantment Violetta was using to hold him in her thrall.

Z Z Z


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as he reached the cave, Zorro strode over to the desk and pulled the letter from the drawer. Again a sense of foreboding washed over him as he held it in his hands. Why had a man risked his life over its contents? What did his old university rival have to do with it? And would it explain why the widow of an old schoolmate bewitched him to the point he forgot he was in love with Victoria?

Shaking off his misgivings, he slid the missive from its envelope. He glanced up at the archway leading to the library fireplace, expecting to see Felipe standing there, with yet another distraction. Expecting. . .or hoping? he asked himself as he removed his hat and mask. 

He stared at the folded paper in his hands, almost certain he knew its contents. It was something he had worried about ever since he had begun his masquerade, especially after word of Zorro had reached Madrid. That someone would add up all the facts and come up with the correct answer. One that could cost him his life.

It would not, however, explain his barely controllable carnal response to Violetta, and that was the most pressing of all his problems at the moment. He had to figure out a way to deal with his overpowering desire for her before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life.

With a growl of frustration, he shoved the letter back into its envelope, sliding it back into his desk drawer. Diego then got to his feet, walking over to the rack change his clothing.

Z Z Z

The next morning, Diego sat next to his father as the elder de la Vega drove their wagon through the pueblo gate. Don Alejandro meant to pick up some nails and wire that were needed to fix a patch of fence in one of the north pastures. After helping load the supplies, Diego was going to stay in town to finalize the latest issue of the Guardian.

"Whoa!" His father suddenly brought the wagon to a halt just outside the tavern. Diego glanced up to see Señora Gomez, dressed in a dark grey dress, stepped out onto the inn's porch followed her daughter, who was similarly attired. Noting they both held their luggage, he realized Victoria had made good on her promise to evict them from her premises.

"What's going on there, eh, Diego?" asked Don Alejandro, indicating the two women. Diego shrugged as innocently as he could.

" _Hola, señoras_." The old don greeted the ladies as he climbed down from his vehicle. "You're not leaving town, are you?"

"Oh, no, Señor de la Vega," answered Violetta, clutching her case even tighter. "We are looking for a permanent place here in Los Angeles. Staying here," she twisted her lips distastefully as she glanced over her shoulder at the tavern, "was only ever going to be a temporary arrangement."

"So you found somewhere else to stay?" Diego challenged, knowing that she was lying.

"Well, no, not yet," the young widow replied. "We were just going out to look." Violetta glanced from man to man, a mixture of helplessness and misguided determination on her face. "We just have no idea where to even begin," she stated feebly. 

"We can help you find a place," the elder de la Vega offered. "Can't we, son?" Diego nodded dumbly, not wanting to contradict his father in public. "And until then, you both are more than welcome to come stay with us at our hacienda."

"N. . ." Diego clamped his mouth shut even though he wanted to shout as loudly as he could. He heard a gasp and looked up to see Victoria had heard his father issue the invitation to the two women. And she appeared to be even less happy about than he was. Furious, in fact.

There was no way he could live under the same roof as the beautiful widow. He could barely control his base urges as it was. To have her there, in his house, in constant contact. . . Oh dear Lord, he would probably have her bedded that evening. But what could he do? Explain his overwhelming attraction to his father? He bit off a laugh at the thought. The elder de la Vega would be sending out wedding invitations before the day was out.

Diego sidled over to Victoria casually yet as quickly as he could. "Tell them they can remain here," he pleaded out of the side of his mouth once he reached her side.

"What?" The innkeeper spun around to glare at him. "I'm not talking to you until you apologize, Diego de la Vega." She turned away from him in a huff. 

Apologize for what? he wondered. His momentary confusion vanished as he recalled their previous day's disagreement. "I am truly sorry for my boorish behavior yesterday," he ground out sincerely. "Now, will you tell them they can stay at the tavern?"

"Why should I?" she asked defiantly.

"I don't want them at the hacienda," he admitted.

"Why not?" Victoria queried. She put her hands on her hips and studied him. "Unless, of course, you do not want to flaunt your mistress under your father's nose," she added nastily.

"She's not my mistress," Diego replied through gritted teeth, hoping that fact would remain true. "Victoria, _por favor_. Just tell them they can remain. I will do anything you want in return."

"Anything?" she echoed brightly. Her sudden change in demeanor made Diego realize offering her _carte blanche_ was a mistake he would dearly pay for later. But what else could he do? He was desperate.

" _Si, anything_."

Victoria smiled smugly as she stepped off the porch and approached the wagon where elder de la Vega was loading the señoras' luggage. The old don glanced around then fixed his gaze on his son. "Diego, get over here and help, please."

"That won't be necessary, Don Alejandro," Victoria stated. She turned to the two women. "You can stay at the tavern until you find somewhere else to live," she declared begrudgingly.

"Sorry," Violetta began, "but Señor de la Vega has already graciously offered to let us stay with him."

"But it will be more difficult to secure lodgings when you are so far out of town," Diego said as he ambled over. 

"We can always lend them our carriage, son," said his father. "It would be no problem." He then lifted a suitcase into the back of the wagon.

"But. . ." Diego was at a loss for words as he saw his plan evaporate before his eyes. He glanced over at Violetta and her mother and saw the women were resolved in their decision to leave the tavern. 

The elder de la Vega was glaring at him meaningfully. With a heavy sigh, Diego picked up a satchel and placed it into the back of the cart. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed de Soto and Mendoza strolling across the plaza together them. _Just what this farce needed, two more fools_ , he thought uncharitably.

"Well, what do we have here?" the alcalde asked as he came to a halt in front of the knot of people surrounding the de la Vega wagon. "It seems that I have missed the arrival of two such charming and beautiful ladies in our fair pueblo. My men and I have been out practicing military maneuvers." 

"Maneuvers?"repeated the sergeant. "You had us up in the mountains picking blackber. . ."

"Mendoza," de Soto barged in authoritatively, "I need you to go back to the cuartel and count all the bullets."

"All the bullets?"

" _Si_ , every last one of them."

"But, Alcalde. . ." the portly soldier began to whine, but closed his mouth and saluted as his superior stared at him darkly. " _Si, mi Alcalde_." 

As Sergeant Mendoza scurried away, Don Alejandro stepped forward, indicating the pair of widows. "Alcalde, this is Señora Gomez and her daughter, Señora Murillo. Ladies, this is Ignacio de Soto, the alcalde of Los Angeles."

The commandante bowed and kissed the hand of each lady in turn. "Murillo, Murillo," he mulled the name over his tongue. "You are not by chance related to the Murillo family of Madrid, are you, Señora?" he asked with an ingratiating expression.

" _Si_ , my father-in-law is Don Fernando Murillo," she replied, naming the patriarch of the vaulted clan. "I was married to his second son, Antonio, before his untimely death."

"My most sincere condolences," de Soto murmured insincerely before focusing his attention on the de la Vegas. "Correct me if I am mistaken, Diego, but wasn't he a classmate of yours at university?"

"He was," Diego replied through clenched teeth.

"Handsome, devil-may-care fellow," the alcalde began. "Not much of a scholar, as I recall. In fact, there was a friend of mine who sold the answers to exams to those of us in need, and I remember Murillo being one of his best customers." He chuckled darkly. 

Diego could not believe that de Soto had not only insulted Violetta's dead husband, but had also implied he himself had cheated his way through university. 

Don Alejandro stepped into the awkward silence that ensued. "Well, they will be staying with us for the time being, Alcalde. Why don't you come out to the hacienda for dinner tomorrow night? You, too, of course, Victoria." He waved his gloves at the lovely innkeeper.

"Wonderful, I accept," said de Soto.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Victoria replied with an disingenuous smile when the elder de la Vega looked at her inquiringly.

"Good, good," said Don Alejandro, seemingly oblivious to the tension that hung thick in the air.

"Now if you will excuse me, I have important matters to attend to," the alcalde said. He bowed to the ladies then strolled back to the cuartel, whistling tunelessly.

Diego eyed de Soto's back balefully, wishing he could wash his hands of the women so easily. With unnecessary force, he shoved the last of the widows' luggage into the cart. Stepping back, he allowed his father to assist Señora Gomez in the wagon's seat.

"Aren't you coming to the hacienda with us, Diego?" inquired Violetta, gazing up at him coyly and placing her gloved hand on his jacket sleeve. He visibly flinched at her touch, as it sent a frisson of lust through his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Victoria glaring indignantly. 

Extricating himself from the widow's grasp, he replied, "Unfortunately, no, Señora. I have a deadline. For the newspaper, you see. A deadline, yes." Inwardly, Diego winced at how lame his excuse sounded, never mind that it was in fact true.

"Pity," Violetta said. "I guess I must resign myself to sharing your company later this evening then." She beamed up at him prettily. Diego noted when she turned to Victoria, who was now standing beside him, her arms akimbo, the widow's smile didn't diminish but it no longer reached her dark brown eyes.

Seeing his father already sitting beside Señora Gomez, Diego had no choice but to assist Violetta up to sit beside her mother. He could swear he heard Victoria's teeth grinding as his father and the women waved and called out their goodbyes as they drove away. 

When the cart had rambled out of sight, Diego turned to the woman next to him, expecting to see anger marring her lovely features. Instead, sly smile slid across her face. "I wonder what I should ask for," she said airily. Her mouth twitched with amusement. "You did say anything, didn't you?"

"Victoria. . ."

"Hmm, I will have to think about this," she said, ignoring the plea in his voice. "So many possibilities." With that, she swirled around and flounced off toward her tavern.

Diego was left standing in the middle of the plaza, feeling as if he had been hit by a whirlwind. No, make that two whirlwinds, two women who were pulling him in opposite directions. What made the situation even more absurd is that he knew who held his heart, knew which one he had loved for years. With a shake of his head, he strode over to the inn.

Upon entering the building, he caught of glimpse of Victoria disappearing into the kitchen. Quickening his pace, he darted through the curtains before they had a chance to close behind her.

"Our bargain is null and void," declared Diego, as he stopped just inside the room.

Victoria spun around, surprise then annoyance flickered across her features. "I upheld my end of it," she retorted, crossing her arms over her bosom. "It is hardly my fault if they declined my offer."

"You cannot hold me to this." Diego took a step forward, closing the gap between them.

"I can and I will." 

"Victoria. . ."

"Unless you have something else to say besides trying to change my mind, go away, Diego," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I have a business to attend to."

"Fine," he replied, inching even nearer. "But just know that anything doesn't really mean anything. I won't kill anyone."

"Oh, like I would ask you to do that." Victoria picked up a knife and began to slice up a tomato. "Who would I want you to kill? That's just silly."

"This whole situation is silly." Diego moved even closer. "You cannot hold me to this."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "I already told you I am," she said, finishing the tomato before she set down her knife. "You are not going to change my mind, Diego. Why don't you run along and see how your little widow is doing." She smiled at him cattily.

"She is not ‘my little widow'."

"Not yet anyway."

"You and I are just friends, as you have pointed out many, many times" Diego said bitterly."Only yesterday you told me you weren't jealous of her. So why would you care if I did have an interest in Violetta?" He deliberately mentioned the other woman's name, just to gauge her reaction.

Her face paled, then reddened as her eyes widened in shock. "I. . .I. . .I don't care," she stammered as she glanced away, picking up her knife again. "Marry her for all I care." Grabbing blindly for a pepper, her hand closed on one, and she started chopping it so viciously Diego had to resist the urge to cover up a certain area of his anatomy. 

"I am hardly going to marry a woman I have just met," he stated. "I would need to spend a lot more time with a woman before I would make a life long commitment to her."

"Oh." Victoria set down her knife and wiped her hands. "Oh, I just thought of the perfect thing."

Diego narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

She smiled smugly at him. "Of what you can do for me," she declared. "You can help me find out who Zorro is."

Z Z Z


	5. Chapter 5

Victoria watched as Diego's mouth fell open, followed by a tiny flicker of fear that passed over his face so swiftly, she thought she must have imagined it.

"You cannot be serious," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.

"I most certainly am," she replied. And she was. The thought that Zorro could be. . .with that. . .that woman. . .had left her tossing and turning for hours. She needed to know. Besides, it was a brilliant idea. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before.

"Why would you think I could succeed where many others have tried and failed?" Diego asked. 

"Because you are the smartest person I know," she replied sincerely. "If you cannot do it, no one can."

"Victoria," he said with a shake of his head. "No, I cannot do as you ask. It's too risky, for both of us. If the alcalde learned we knew of Zorro's identity, we would be imprisoned, maybe even tortured. We would most definitely hang. . ."

"Fine," she retorted. She had forgotten all about de Soto and his obsession with capturing the masked man. And although she was willing to put her life on the line for the man she loved, she had no right to force Diego to do the same. "Fine," she repeated. "Do this for me then. Stay away from Señora Murillo."

"What?"

"Stay away from Señora Murillo."

He chuckled nervously. "That is going to be rather difficult since my father invited her to stay at the hacienda. What would you have me do? Move out until she and her mother find somewhere else to live?"

"If that is what is takes." Victoria picked up her knife again and calmly started slicing a tomato.

"I thought you weren't jealous."

"I'm not," she said, pretending to concentrate on her work. But even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was lying. She _was_ jealous. The thought of that harpy getting her claws into Diego made her sick to her stomach. "You are a dear friend and I don't want to see you get hurt." Another lie. He was more than a friend and she did love him, just not in the same way she loved Zorro. He didn't make her heart pound or her knees go weak. But he was someone she could always count on, no matter what she needed or what kind of trouble she was in.

"Just a dear friend, eh?" Diego asked, breaking into her thoughts. . 

"Yes, a dear friend," she replied. "Probably the best friend I have. That is why I think you should keep away from that woman. I have a feeling she's not what she seems."

"I'm a grown man who can make his own decisions," he added with what sounded like an edge of sarcasm to his tone. He took a couple of steps toward her. "I am quite capable of not allowing my lust to control my reasoning."

_Oh my_. Victoria had to put down her knife again. The idea of Diego having lustful thoughts made her belly flip again, but in a different way. 

"What? You're surprised I have. . .needs just like any other man?" He sounded bitter now as he drew up beside her. "What did you think? That I was a eunuch?"

No, she never thought that, but she had never thought of him and. . . _that_. And then she couldn't think of anything at all as Diego lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. And it was not a tender or gentle kiss either. He circled his arms around her and pulled her tight up against his body as he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. 

Desire swept through her as she opened to him and let him plunder her mouth. Then, almost as abruptly as it had started, Diego pushed himself away.

"Forgive me," he said, ducking his head to avoid her dazed stare. "That was. . .unforgivable."

He spun around and strode out of the kitchen before Victoria could point out his conflicting statements. Not that she was capable of forming a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence. She stood rooted to the spot, trying to ignore her trembling legs and wildly beating heart. 

Then she realized Diego had left before he promised to stay away from that. . .that. . . _perra_. Any lingering feelings of desire were wiped away as anger surged through her. Once again, Victoria picked up her knife and began hacking the tomato into tiny pieces..

Z Z Z

_He couldn't believe he had kissed Victoria_.

"Checkmate. Again."

Diego snapped out of his reverie at the sound of his father's voice and glanced up to see Felipe grinning triumphantly. But beneath the smile, he could see the lad was growing tired.

"Well, I'm for bed," yawned the elder de la Vega. He looked expectantly at Felipe then Diego. 

"I demand another rematch," declared Diego. "He is only ahead by two games."

Don Alejandro chuckled. "You may as well give up now, son. You will never catch up. He's too good." Felipe sat up proudly at the praise from the older man. " _Buenas noches_."

"Good night, father," Diego replied. He watched without really seeing as Felipe began resetting the chess pieces. 

_He couldn't believe he had kissed Victoria_.

It wasn't like he had never kissed her before, he had - many times - as Zorro. But never as Don Diego. What if she noticed similarities? He didn't even want to think about that. The thought she might compare his kiss with Zorro's had distracted him from the blatant flirting Violetta had flung his way from the moment he had returned to the hacienda just before supper.

A tapping sound penetrated his musings and he looked up to see Felipe's impatient expression. "Oh, sorry," he said as he picked up a random pawn and moved it forward, glad the lovely widow had retired nearly an hour earlier. He wanted to make sure she was truly asleep before he even ventured anywhere close to his own bedroom. She had begun to pout due to his lack of interest and that worried him. Who knew what scheme she would devise if he kept thwarting her?

He had also been dismayed his father had paid marked attention to Señora Gomez, who appeared to be returning the elder de la Vega's regard. Although he could hardly begrudge his father female companionship if he wanted it. But still, she was Violetta's mother and since he did not trust the daughter, it would probably be wise to be cautious of the mother as well.

He absently moved another pawn, his mind drifting back to his confrontation with Victoria and the ridiculous demand she had made. Help her deduce Zorro's identity indeed. At least he had been able to talk her out of that and. . .

_He had kissed her_. And it had been glorious. And he was ten times a fool for doing so.

This time it was a heavy sigh that captured his attention. Felipe was glaring at him now. Diego glanced at the board and saw he was in check, with only two possible moves, one of which would put him at checkmate.

"Felipe, if you win," he began, "you can go to bed. If I win. . ." He cleared his throat, ignoring the youth's rather sarcastically raised eyebrow. "Then you have to play one more game."

The young man nodded his agreement. Diego stared at the chessmen for a few moments weighing his options then chose his move.

And, of course, it was the wrong one.

Z Z Z

The next evening, Diego stared at the mirror on his bedroom wall as he attempted to knot his black silk tie into a decent bow. Confound his father anyway. He could think of nothing he would like to do less than spend the next several hours with a smile plastered to his face as he made polite and inane conversation at a dinner party with three people he would rather avoid at the moment.

But there was no way he could weasel out of it. Glancing at the looking glass, he saw he had once again mangled his tie. Sighing, he loosened it again and started over. As he was looping it around his shirt collar, Diego could hear the front door opening, announcing the arrival of de Soto and Victoria. His father was cheerfully greeting the newcomers, offering them a glass of sherry.

He could hear Violetta's trilling laugh, which sent shivers down his spine, both of annoyance and yearning. He felt the beautiful widow was just waiting for him to slip up, ready to pounce on him like a cat on a mouse, aching to dig in her claws. 

His ploy to keep her at bay had worked last evening, but he doubted it would work again. Plus Felipe was a growing boy and needed his rest. After he had sent the lad to bed the previous night, he had pretended to read before falling asleep on the library settee. His neck still felt a bit sore.

Tilting his head from side to side, he then put the finishing touches on his bedraggled tie. It would have to do, he thought, positive his father was getting exasperated by his tardiness. As he left his room and walked down the darkened hall way, he mused this must be what a condemned man feels on his way to the gallows.

Moments later, he stepped in the parlor where the elder de la Vega and their guests had gathered. "Ah, Diego, there you are," Don Alejandro announced, a hint of irritation in his voice. The others in the room all turned to face him as he stood in the doorway.

All at once, he was blindsided by the resemblance between Victoria and Violetta. Their eyes were both a deep chocolate brown, their hair as black as a raven's wing. Even their faces were similarly shaped, although Victoria's was a bit more heart-shaped. _Madre de Dios_ , was this the reason why he felt such a strong attraction to his friend's widow? Because she reminded him of the woman standing before him, the woman he love? The woman, who for the moment, was unattainable?

"Sherry?" His father's inquiry broke through his speculations. Diego shook his head. He was saved the task of asking for water then explaining his choice by the discreet arrival of Maria, the de la Vega housekeeper.

"Dinner is served," the elder de la Vega stated. He offered his arm to Señora Gomez, which she accepted with a gracious smile.

Diego glanced at the two younger women, then at de Soto. With a hint of deviltry in his eyes, the commandante bowed in front of Victoria. "Señorita Escalante?" Victoria placed her hand on his proffered arm, narrowing her eyes at Diego. "Of course, Señor Alcalde," she said cordially.

Violetta gazed expectantly at Diego. Mentally cursing his luck, or rather his lack thereof, he pasted a polite expression on his face. "Shall we?" he asked, even though they were the last couple in the room.

Everyone else was already seated when Diego escorted Violetta into the dining room. He was surprised to see Felipe standing next to the housekeeper. What did the young man think he was doing? Diego wondered as he helped Violetta into her seat. They had never allowed him to serve at table whenever they had guests. Who had decided differently and why hadn't he been consulted? 

As he vowed to find out, the first course, a spicy tomato soup was brought out. It was followed by roast pheasant and potatoes. Everyone, Diego noted, was chatting amicably so far, no doubt because of the excellent fare and the glasses of wine Felipe kept refilling.

There was a lull for a moment or two, which Don Alejandro ended by turning to de Soto. "And how did you find the pheasant, Alcalde?"

"Well, I moved my potatoes, and there it was," said the commandante as he raised his fork.

Victoria let out a burst of laughter she cut off by placing her napkin on her mouth. Diego's eyes darted to Felipe, whose face was covered in a huge grin and turning red from suppressing his own merriment. The elder de la Vega looked somewhat confused, yet smiled as Señora Gomez said something to him Diego couldn't catch.

"It really is a delicious meal, Don Alejandro," Violetta said airily as if nothing had happened. "As fine as anything I have been served in Spain."

"Ah, yes, Spain," said the alcalde, lifting his wine glass. "It must seem like paradise compared to this dry, dusty land, Señora."

"Oh, Los Angeles has some fine qualities," she replied, her dark eyes sliding coquettishly in Diego's direction. "I must confess, I do miss Madrid now and then. It's been nearly a year since we left."

"And what was your reason for leaving?" de Soto asked, then realizing he sounded impolite, added, "if you don't mind me asking."

"It was a last request of my husband."

"Antonio, yes. I wish I remembered more about him," the commandante said. "There was the age difference, of course, as an upperclassman, the freshman seemed so immature, one rarely spent time with them. Present company excluded, of course, Diego."

Diego nodded in acknowledgment of the backhanded compliment. "Some of us were there to learn, to expand our minds. Not all of us were frivolous fellows."

"Of course not," agreed de Soto. "That is what I remember the most about you when we spent time together rehearsing of the Passion Play we put on that year. Always had your nose in book when you weren't on stage.

"He was Jesus, you know," the alcalde confided in Violetta. "Please, forgive me, Señora, but I cannot recall if your husband was also in the production."

"Oh, he only had a small part," she said with a wry smile. "He was one of the Roman soldiers. But he was happy because he got to carry a sword as part of his costume." She motioned for Felipe to refill her glass. "He wasn't much of an actor, he would always say, but it did let him indulge in his love of swordplay."

"Swordplay? He was proficient in the sport?"

"Oh, _si_ ," Violetta said. "Sometimes I think he loved it more than me." She sighed wistfully.

Her mother shook her head. "Violetta, what a terrible thing to say."

"But it's true, Mama," said her daughter. She cocked her head to gaze at de Soto as Felipe approached to fill her glass. "Señor Alcalde, did you also study the saber under Sir Edmund Kendall like Antonio and. . . Oh!"

She jumped from her chair, the front of her lavender gown now sporting a dark red stain. The men all rose to their feet as well. "You imbecile!" she yelled at Felipe, who was holding a now half empty carafe. "Look what you've done to my best gown. It's ruined."

Violetta then raised her hand, as if she intended to slap the youth. Diego grabbed his napkin and thrust it at her. "I'm sure Maria will be able to get that stain out. She's a miracle work. . ."

"No, it's ruined," Violetta said petulantly, dabbing half-heartedly with the cloth. "You should have that clumsy boy dismissed immediately."

Diego glanced at Felipe, who was keeping his eyes downcast, but he saw the impudent grin on the lad's face. It was when he was thus distracted that Victoria stood and walked up to the sulking Violetta. 

"Felipe is a good boy," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You are the one who is a clumsy cow."

Z Z Z


	6. Chapter 6

Diego glanced around as a disconcerting hush fell over the dining room after Victoria had uttered her insult. Don Alejandro and Señora Gomez both looked horrified. Felipe was staring at the floor, unsuccessfully trying to hide the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. The alcalde had the gall to smirk as he stood between the two women who were staring malevolently at each other.

"How dare you!" Violetta said indignantly, shattering the silence. "You. . .you. . .tavern wench! That brat did this on purpose."

"You bumped his arm. I saw you do it," Victoria announced, evidently letting the ‘tavern wench' comment roll off her back. "You have no one to blame but yourself." She smiled cattily at the other woman. Diego wondered if she was telling the truth or merely covering up for Felipe's well-timed clumsiness.

"Ladies. . .Ladies. . ." the elder de la Vega began. But that was as far as he got before Violetta reached out and grabbed a handful of Victoria's hair, tugging it viciously.

"Ow! Let go, you cow." Victoria swatted at the other woman's hand futilely then seized a hank of the young widow's hair.

Violetta squealed with pain. The women struggled for a few moments as everyone watched in a fascinated stupor. The beautiful widow then began groping blindly on the table, finally wrapping her fingers around the stem of a wine glass.

Diego, guessing her intent, shoved aside a grinning de Soto before grabbing Violetta's wrist, making her let go of the glass. He then thrust himself forcibly between the two women and began pulling at their arms, hoping they would let go of each other's hair.

But he only succeeded in making them yank harder. It didn't help matters they were both pressed up against his body, and he could feel every curve and every bit of soft flesh they possessed. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to be aroused. A very naughty thought crossed his mind, one that indicated he was failing miserably. 

Giving his head a shake to clear the image of naked, writhing bodies, Diego pushed the women farther apart, forcing them to let go of each other. They were panting from their exertions, glowering at the other with venomous expressions as he put even more space between them and him.

He turned to the lovely innkeeper first. "Victoria, apologize," he ordered before addressing Violetta. "Then you will go with Maria and she will help you with your gown." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. For a moment, he thought Victoria was going to defy his request.

"I'm sorry," said Victoria. "That was so very rude of me. Please forgive me." The fact her words were spoken through clenched teeth and dripping with sarcasm did not escape Diego's notice, but he was not going to point that out to her. Not as angry as she was at the moment.

"All is forgiven Señorita," Violetta replied, her face wreathed in a smile of insincerity. She gazed up at Diego as if for approval.

"Yes, right," he said before indicating the housekeeper standing behind the young widow. 

"This way, Señora" Maria led Violetta from the dining room. The widow tossed her head, shooting a malicious glance in Victoria's direction, as the housekeeper whisked her away. Diego watched them go, then focused his attention on the remaining people in the room. His father was helping Señora Gomez back into her chair. De Soto and Felipe were still standing by the table, the former wearing an amused expression. Victoria was glaring at him in a manner which made him grateful that looks could not kill. 

"Well, then," he began, cutting through the awkward silence as he pointed to the table where the remains of their meal sat, "shall we continue?"

"I have lost my appetite," the lovely innkeeper declared. "Excuse me, _por favor_." She started to sweep out of the room, but de Soto held out his hand.

"If you are ready to leave, I will be happy to escort you back to the pueblo," he offered gallantly.

" _Gracias_ ," replied Victoria before flinging another look in Diego's direction, one filled not only with spite but with a little bit of triumph. "If you are sure you wish to leave."

It had not crossed Diego's mind until that moment Victoria and the alcalde had traveled to the hacienda together, therefore they would also be returning to Los Angeles together. Alone. At night. In the dark. He glanced at the pair of them and a frisson of premonition shuddered through him. 

Don't be absurd, he scolded himself as they said their farewells after being escorted to the front door. There could never be anything between Victoria and Ignacio. She despised the man. And de Soto would never consider marriage to a lowly tavern owner. He, no doubt, had much loftier goals. 

_But who said anything about marriage? ___the voice in his head queried. Maybe something baser was in play here. Once again, the image of naked, writhing bodies appeared in his mind, only this time it was Victoria and de Soto passionately entwined.

With his own desire for food greatly diminished by that thought, Diego signaled a discreet ‘Z' to Felipe, who seemed startled by the gesture. But as they shuffled back to the dining room to finished their interrupted meal, the lad nodded, loping off in the direction of the library.

Diego groaned inwardly as Violetta returned minutes after they had resumed eating, wearing a different unstained gown. And not one of her usual modest black or dark gray ones either, but one of amethyst silk that clung to every curve and contour of her body and displaying a dazzling amount of décolleté. 

Quickly jumping to his feet, Diego was grateful to pull out her chair before swiftly resuming his own seat and dropping his napkin in his lap before he embarrassed himself. Diego began to run mathematical algorithms through his brain in the futile hope of distracting himself from seemingly acres of bare ivory flesh he could see from the corner of his eye.

"Violetta," her mother scolded, "you should not be wearing that dress. It's not proper."

"It's been two years, Mama," her daughter replied, "I think I have mourned enough." She smiled coquettishly at Don Alejandro, then at Diego. 

"I think it looks lovely," said the elder de la Vega. "Don't you, son?"

"Yes, lovely," Diego choked out before returning his attention to the congealing food on his plate and praying silently this torturous dinner would be over soon.

Z Z Z

Much later that evening, Victoria set her broom aside and stretched her back as she glanced around her empty tavern. She had sent Alicia and Pilar home as soon as she had arrived back from the disastrous dinner party. Cleaning and clearing up for the night had helped her work out some of her anger.

But she was still upset. How dare that woman say those horrible things about Felipe? And why on earth had Diego allowed her to do so? Was he so enchanted by her charms he thought she could do no wrong? Oh, how stupid men were, to be lured in by a pretty face and a large bosom and not care about the nature of the woman to which they were attached. 

Giving her head a toss as she climbed the stairs to her quarters, she wondered just what had the alcalde been up to when he had escorted her home that evening. He had spent the two miles between the hacienda and the pueblo peppering her with questions about the de la Vegas' guests, especially Señora Murillo, and whether or not Diego was interested in the brazen hussy (her words, not de Soto's). Questions for which she did not have answers, even if she had wanted to provide them.

Then there had been that moment when the alcalde had helped her dismount from her horse. His hands had lingered on her waist a second or two longer than what was proper and had slid down to her hips for an instant so fleeting she thought she must have imagined it. Victoria remembered glancing up at his face and seeing a look in his eyes that, well, had not been unlike how Mendoza eyed a plate of fresh tamales.

Ha, as if, she scoffed as she opened the door to her room, closing it after she stepped inside. As if she would ever be interested in such a petty tyrant. Pushing aside such a ridiculous notion, she yawned and began to undo the bow that loosened her blouse. Lifting it over her head, she placed it on the back of her vanity chair. Her skirt, petticoats, and corset soon joined the blouse. Victoria then reached for the hem of her chemise.

"Stop."

With a gasp, she turned in direction of the husky whisper, her breath quickening along with the beat of her heart. "Who is it?" she demanded, her words barely audible.

A tall shadow shifted near her window, moonlight revealing a man dressed head to toe in black.

"Zorro." Not knowing whether to be relieved or angry, she crossed her arms so that her hands covered her breasts which were clearly visible through the thin cotton fabric.

"A thousand pardons, _querida_ ," he replied, removing his hat. "I should have. . made my presence known sooner. It. . .I. . ."

"Get out." Victoria cut him off before he could tell her more lies. She knew exactly why he had let her undress as far as she had before calling a halt. _Men_ , she thought - and not for the first time - _were pigs_.

"Victoria, _por favor_. . ." 

"Do you think," she stated peevishly, "that you can just break into my room, watch me take my clothes off, and I will just accept whatever poor excuse of an apology you have to offer, and then everything will be fine between us?" She paused to take a breath. "Well, Señor Fox, you are sadly mistaken. I am going to need more than mere words to forgive you this time."

With a huff, she spun around and snatched her shawl from the end of her bed. Once she had wrapped it around her shoulders, she glared at him and pointed toward the window. "I am going to guess that is how you got in?" He nodded. "Then that is the way you can leave. Now," she added emphatically as he remained as still as a statue.

Zorro moved toward her cautiously, ignoring her rather clear instructions. "Mere words are not good enough to make you forgive me?" he queried, an odd tone in his voice.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as he inched close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, to smell his familiar scent of leather and horse and man, to see a wicked light dancing in his green eyes.

"Well, then, it's a good thing I am a man of action, is it not?" he drawled. His lips came down on hers before she even had a chance to form a reply. His large hands, which she realized were gloveless, were roaming up and down, cupping her breasts and bottom with equal enthusiasm. He pressed closer, and she could feel his arousal against her stomach.

His mouth left hers and began kissing a spot behind her ear before moving its way down her neck. Oh, it felt so. . .so. . . So like someone was trying to avoid discussing his previous night's visit.

Victoria pressed her hands to his chest and pushed. He instantly sprang back, his hands raised in front of him as though she was aiming a weapon at him. "That's not what I meant either," she retorted.

"I did not mean. . . Please forgive me," he said, eyeing her cautiously.

"Keep your apologies. I don't want them."

"Victoria," he pleaded as he lowered his arms, "tell me what you want me to do. I will do anything. . ."

"Prove you came to see me last night and not _her_." She spat out the last word as if something bitter had filled her mouth.

"Prove. . ." echoed Zorro. "How do you propose I do that? No matter what I say, you will not believe me."

"Probably not," she agreed. 

"All right, I did not only come to visit you last night, I also came to investigate your guests."

"Ha!" Feeling vindicated, she shook her finger at him. "I knew it. I knew you were. . ."

"But then I scrutinize all your tenants," he cut in.

"What?" Victoria stared at him incredulously. "Do you think I cannot take care of myself? I have. . ."

He interrupted her once again. "No, I know you can take care of yourself," he declared. "I just believe that you shouldn't have to."

"Oh," she said softly, hearing the sincerity in his voice and seeing it in his eyes. Her anger melted away, knowing in that moment he truly did love her, as he constantly showed her with his deeds if not with his words. Rising up on her toes, she first kissed his cheek, then moved her lips to his mouth. He gathered her up in his arms, holding her tightly against his hard body.

This time, he was the one who put an end to their passionate encounter before it grew out of control. "I must go," he murmured, kissing her once more before spinning away and climbing out of the window.

Breathlessly, Victoria plopped down on her bed and smiled. Take that, Señora Widow, she thought smugly. Go spin your sticky web around some other man. Zorro is mine.

Z Z Z

A short while later, Diego stepped into his room, closing the door behind him, then came to an immediate halt. Wearing nothing but a diaphanous gown that left nothing to the imagination and stretched out on his bed, was Violetta, fast asleep.

_Maldita sea_ , this was a complication he could do without at the moment. Not only was he physically and emotionally drained from his encounter with Victoria, he had been bursting with sexual frustration so profound, he had planned to alleviate it in a manner he did not often employ. 

He must have made some noise, for she began to stir, rolling onto her back and giving him a clear view of all her womanly assets through the sheer fabric. Her eyes opened lazily. "Diego? Is that you?" She shifted so she was once again lying on her side. "I must have fallen asleep waiting for you."

Violetta leaned forward, her breasts nearly spilling from the low cut neckline of her gown. "Where have you been?" she scolded with a purr. "Have you been out being a naughty boy?"

Yes, he wanted to tell her. Yes, he had been out seducing the woman he loved into forgiving him. But his throat felt constricted, his breathing shallow, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might beat out of his chest. Diego grew lightheaded as her gaze traveled up then down the length of his body, her eyes lingering on the front of his trousers. 

"Why don't you join me?" She patted the mattress beside her, inviting him into his own bed.

"No, thank you," he ground out through gritted teeth. "In fact, I must insist you leave at once."

"Why would I want to do that?" she countered. "I want you, Diego, and it's obvious that you want me." Once more she ogled his groin, a smug smile growing on her lips. "I think the two of us would get on quite well together, don't you?"

She did not give him a chance to answer as she arose from the bed and sauntered over to stand inches away from him. Violetta placed her hand on his chest, moving her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, and began to undo them. Diego, in an attempt to step away, instead smacked into his bedroom door. He was, it seemed, trapped with no way to escape.

Pressing her body to his, Violetta smiled at him. "If you refuse what I'm offering," she purred, snaking her arm behind his neck, "I will scream. And you know what will happen then, don't you, Diego?" 

His muddled mind did not have a chance to contemplate her threat before she kissed him firmly on the mouth.

Z Z Z


	7. Chapter 7

Any semblance of rational thought fled Diego's mind, leaving nothing but pure carnal lust in its place. He ran his hands up and down her voluptuous curves, probing her mouth with his tongue. Hers entwined with his, the taste of her engulfing his senses. Unbidden, the memory of kissing Victoria in much the same manner that same evening, flooded his mind, filling him guilt.

"No, wait. . ." he said after lifting his lips from hers, "I cannot do this. . ."

"Yes, you can," Violetta purred, rubbing herself against the obvious bulge in his trousers. He groaned helplessly, making a feeble attempt to push her away. She gave a husky laugh as she pressed herself tighter. "You want me, Diego."

He shook his head, despite knowing she was right. "I don't know what comes over me when I am around you," he murmured. "I cannot seem to control myself. If I believed in such nonsense, I would swear you have placed some sort of spell upon me." 

"So I have bewitched you, have I?" she said as she coiled her fingers through his hair. 

"No, that is not what I meant," he replied. "That would be impossible." He then made the mistake of looking into her chocolate brown eyes, seeing the desire and vulnerability in their depths. 

"Nothing is impossible, if you want it enough." She touched her mouth to his, a kiss he responded to in a way that made him ache when she pulled back. "And I think you do." 

_Dios mio_ , he did. He wanted her more than anything in the world at that moment. But he had to say no, didn't he? _But why?_ a little voice in his head demanded to know. She was a widow, he was a bachelor. He hadn't had a woman since before he had left Spain. He should still say no, although for the life of him, he couldn't think of a good reason. . . 

He was startled out of his struggling thoughts when he realized she had finished unbuttoning his shirt and was pushing it off his shoulders. His bared skin tingled as he could feel the heat of her body, smell her scent of violets and silk and woman. "Come, Diego," she said as she put her hand in his and moved toward the bed. 

Foolishly, he obeyed, staring hungrily as she shed her gown, then arranged herself against the pillows, her legs spread shamelessly. His clothing joined hers on the floor, then he joined her on the bed.

Z Z Z

Diego stumbled toward the dining room late the next morning, hoping against hope Violetta had already eaten her breakfast or was still asleep so he wouldn't have to meet her face to face. She had slipped out of his room sometime before dawn, much to his relief. Although her scent still lingered on his sheets and the images of what they had done still lingered in his mind.

He couldn't believe he had let his lust override his conscience. He had never been an advocate of casual sexual encounters, but this was not the first time his actions had belied those principles, much to his chagrin. Once again praying he would not have deal with her, he walked into the room.

Where it became evident fate was not smiling down favorably on him that day. Violetta sat alone at the table, pushing her food around her plate listlessly. She lifted her eyes when she heard his step, and blushed when they met with his. Both of them looked away quickly and Diego could feel his cheeks burn as well. _Maldita sea_ , this was awkward. What little appetite he had had dissipated instantly, but he could hardly turn around and walk out, no matter how much he desired to do so.

Instead he moved over to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of coffee, noting she was drinking tea. With a teaspoon each of milk and sugar, no doubt. _Madre de Dios_ , he knew how she took her tea. Considering how intimately he knew her, it seemed such a mundane thing, but somehow it felt more personal.

"Your father and my mother went out riding this morning." Her words snapped him out of his troublesome thoughts. Diego glanced at her before sitting down in a chair as far away from her as he could and remain in the same room. Her head was bowed and she still toyed with her meal. Good, he thought callously, she was as embarrassed as he was.

"Did they say when they would be back?" he asked in a calm tone that surprised him, considering how agitated he felt.

Violetta laid down her fork. "Before luncheon," she replied. He watched as she serenely took a sip from her cup. "I think my mother likes your father."

Setting his mug down with a thud, Diego digested that bit of knowledge. "I'm sure she does. He's a wealthy landowner who still has all his hair and teeth."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He ignored the wounded tone in her voice. "Exactly what it sounds like," he retorted. He got to his feet. "What happened last night. . . What we did. . . It can never happen again."

And without giving her a chance to reply, he fled the room, heading straight for the library. Noting it was empty, he ducked through the fireplace and made his way into the cave. Once there, he strode over to the desk, wrenched open a drawer, and extracted the letter. Taking a deep breath, he slipped it from its envelope and unfolded it.

In the middle of the paper was one sentence that read, ‘ _I know who you are_.' It was unsigned.

Diego plopped down in his chair, vaguely disappointed. That was it? That was the big mystery? Still, it was curious someone deemed those words important enough to write them down and make certain they traversed to the other side of the globe so he would see them. Important enough one man had possibly died because of them.

And what did they mean? Did the author know he was Zorro? How could that be possible? How could someone in Spain figure out he, Diego de la Vega, was the masked man - the supposed terror of Los Angeles? Who was this person? Was it someone he knew? Someone from university? And what connection did he have to Violetta? And what did her deliberate seduction of him have to do with any of this?

Maybe she had felt the same electricity between them as he had, and last night's encounter had been inevitable. He hated to think that could be true. He would hope to have more willpower, more control over his libido than he had displayed the previous evening. Willpower and control he was going to have to summon if he had any chance of keeping the vow he had tossed at her in the dining room.

Z Z Z

Cursing himself as twenty times a fool, Diego tapped lightly on Violetta's bedroom door. _This was a bad idea_. But he needed to apologize for his rudeness. He had seen the hurt in her eyes too many times in the past two days, and only he had the power to change that. Privacy had also been hard to come by though. Don Alejandro and Señora Gomez (whose first name he had learned was Emilia) had included both of them in their activities; horseback rides, a picnic, and playing cards in the evening. This was the only way he could say what he needed to say without being overheard by the elder couple. Still, it was a horrible idea.

The door opened cautiously and Violetta's face appeared, first surprise then anger crossing her beautiful features. "Go away," she hissed.

"I need to talk to you," he said, putting his hand out to keep her from shutting the door in his face.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you."

"I've come to apologize," he explained, placing his foot into the open crack. "Please."

She sighed. "Very well, come in." She moved aside as he stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him. 

"I am very sorry about what I said about your mother," he began as she gazed up at him with luminous eyes. "She is a very fine lady and I shouldn't have insinuated that she was after my father's money. It was quite wrong of me."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I realized you were not thinking clearly that morning."

No, he had not been thinking clearly since the day he met her. His brain had been seized by a fever, one he didn't know how to cure. He had hoped his lust would have been satisfied after their prior coupling, but it had not been the case. If anything, he wanted her even more. Especially as she stared up at him, wearing only her flimsy nightgown which inflamed his passions once again.

Diego was not sure who moved first, only that they came together in the middle of the room, their mouths locked in a heated kiss, their hands stroking and caressing each other. He wasn't even aware they were both naked until they had tumbled onto her bed.

"Tell me to stop," he said, lifting his lips from hers, then moving them down the length of her neck.

Her only response was to moan softly as she let her head fall back to allow him better access. He needed to stop. He had to stop. They couldn't keep doing this. _This was a bad idea_ , he admonished himself as he stroked her breast with one hand, _such a bad idea_. His mouth found hers again, causing all coherent thought to flee.

Z Z Z

About a week later, a weary Diego was creeping out of Violetta's room about an hour before dawn when the sound of footsteps froze him in his tracks. Slowly turning around, he saw Felipe come around the corner. Confusion filled his eyes, then disgust as the young man correctly deduced the reason why Diego was wandering the halls. He tried to hustle past Diego on his way to his own room.

Diego reached out a hand to stop him. "I can explain. . ." Diego began lamely, wondering how he could justify to Felipe what he had been doing with Violetta if he couldn't even justify it to himself.

But Felipe just shook him off and started to walk away. "I could ask you what you're doing up so late," Diego said defensively. 

The lad turned around, making a series of blunt gestures telling Diego Toronado had bumped his leg after being restless in his stall earlier that day and he had been checking to see if the swelling had gone down, which it had. Not that Diego cared. He was too busy forni. . .

"That's enough," hissed Diego, more annoyed at himself than with Felipe. He had not stepped foot in the cave for over a week, as he had been too caught up in his other nocturnal activities. "You should have told me about Toronado. I would have helped."

Felipe raised a skeptical eyebrow, questioning his sincerity. The look of revulsion in the younger man's eyes made Diego's stomach turn. It matched the revulsion he felt every time he looked in the mirror. But he was helpless, caught up in a siren's snare he didn't know how to escape. And he doubted Felipe would neither care to hear nor understand his absurd reasons for carrying on a torrid affair under his father's roof while professing to be in love another woman. 

The lad shook his head and walked away. This time Diego let him go. 

Later that afternoon, Diego entered the cave, going directly to Toronado's stall. "Heard you were hurt, old boy," he said affectionately, rubbing the black stallion's nose, then sliding his hand down the animal's front legs. "Sorry I wasn't here to help."

The horse whinnied in response, which Diego hoped meant Toronado had forgiven him. Reaching for a brush, he began to groom the Andalusian's mane.

Diego was working on a particularly hard knot when he once again heard footsteps, announcing Felipe's arrival. When the younger man saw him, he immediately spun around and started back up the steps.

"Felipe, wait!" Diego set down the brush and sprinted across the cave. "I have something for you." Bending down and moving some books from the bottom shelf of a bookcase, he lifted out the long thin package that had been delivered a few weeks earlier. 

The lad stopped, waiting with his hands defiantly resting on his hips. "I know your birthday isn't for a another week or so, but I thought I would give this to you now," Diego announced as he set the parcel on the laboratory table.

Eying it with suspicion, Felipe moved over to the counter and tore open the paper, revealing the wooden crate beneath. With his hands, he pried the lid off, revealing the shiny new sword made of Toledo steel.

"I thought you could get used to it, the feel and weight of it, then we could commence with lessons on your birthday," Diego suggested eagerly. Deep down, he knew this was a blatant attempt to win his way back into his ward's good graces. One with low odds of succeeding.. 

Felipe glanced down at the weapon, a light gleaming in his dark eyes as he reached to lift it out of the box. He glanced over at Diego, then snatched his hand back. With an expression of pure loathing, he turned on his heel and marched out of the cave, not giving either the sword or Diego a second glance.

Diego exhaled sadly. He should have known expensive gifts and lavish promises would not change the young man's opinion. And why should they?

There was only one way to earn Felipe's regard once again and that was to stop sleeping with Violetta. He hung his head. That was easier said than done. Diego raised his head, staring at the scorned sword. But he at least had to make the effort. Or he could never live with himself.

Z Z Z

"What a lovely day," said Señora Gomez as Don Alejandro helped her out of the carriage.

"Indeed it is, Emilia," his father replied, smiling at her indulgently. "Shall we?" The elder de la Vega extended his arm and the older woman placed her hand on his jacket sleeve before commencing their way toward the plaza filled with the booths and stalls of the weekly market.

Diego assisted Violetta to the ground a bit peevishly. He had not wanted to accompany his father and the two widows on yet another trip to the pueblo, followed by a picnic somewhere on the de la Vega property on the way back home. He had come to terms with the budding romance between the old don and Violetta's mother, which was progressing at a rather sedate pace.

He highly doubted when the older couple took a little stroll that it ended the way his and Violetta's did, with her backed up against a tree, her skirts bunched up around her waist and his trousers undone as they went at it like wild animals. It was hard to believe their affair had been going on for nearly a month and no one had learned of it, except for Felipe and probably the servants. Servants always knew everything. It would not surprise him if some of them knew he was Zorro, and wisely kept that information to themselves.

Glancing across the plaza, he watched as Victoria stepped out onto the tavern porch, carrying a tray of food. Diego averted his gaze, unable to look her in the eye, but not before he noticed de Soto sitting at one of the tables.

"Ah, _gracias_ ," the alcalde said as she placed his meal before him then filled a glass with lemonade. "Uh, Señorita." Victoria jerked herself away from staring at Diego and that brazen hussy chatting with an elderly woman in one of the market stalls, lifting the pitcher up before she overfilled the commandante's cup.

Unfortunately, de Soto noticed the direction in which she was staring. "Don Alejandro and Diego appear to be quite cosy with their house guests, don't they?" he taunted her. "I wonder if there will a double wedding in the near future."

"What?" Victoria glared at the commandante. "Don't be silly. They hardly know each other."

The alcalde chuckled. "I would say they know each other well enough." He nodded his head toward Diego and Violetta. 

Victoria narrowed her eyes as she watched the interaction between the man she thought was her best friend and the wicked widow. They acted as though they were physically comfortable with each other, touching each other with an ease that bespoke of a greater private intimacy. Señora Murillo then said something to Diego and he laughed, gazing down at the other woman with an adoring smile.

_They were lovers_. She set down the ewer with a thunk as a sense of betrayal swept through her, clutching at her heart and making it painful to breathe. She didn't understand it, telling herself that she had no claim on Diego beyond friendship. So why did the thought of him with another woman hurt so much?

Z Z Z


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you feeling all right, Señorita?" De Soto's voice broke through Victoria's nightmarish thoughts and she reacted with a jerk, nearly toppling the pitcher of lemonade with her hand.

"Yes, I am fine," she lied, turning away from the distressing sight of Diego and his mistress. "Let me know if you need anything else, Alcalde." 

She started to leave, but a gloved hand touched her wrist. Glancing down then up, she saw an expression of concern on the commandante's face, and softened her stance. "If you should need them, my shoulders are available to cry on," he declared, a small smirk on his lips, dispelling any good-will she might have had toward him.

Victoria snatched her arm away angrily. "I don't know what you mean," she said hotly. "Enjoy your meal." With that she spun around and marched back into her tavern, growing even more irate as she heard de Soto chuckle behind her.

_Men are swine_ , she thought once again as she strode through the curtains leading to her kitchen. Pulling out several pots and pans, she began slamming them around, telling herself she was preparing for supper. Smacking down a skillet on the table, she let out a yelp as a twinge shot through her hand. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

How could he? How could he. . .with that . . .that. . .strumpet. . . Dabbing at her eyes, Victoria plopped down on a bench. She remembered the day Diego had kissed her. It had been so unexpected, yet. . .it had felt so right. Like he had kissed her before, although she knew he had never done so.

Other memories surfaced from that afternoon, Violetta kissing him on the cheek, the jealousy she had tried to deny, Diego telling her he had needs like any other man. Did that mean Zorro had those needs as well? He was definitely a man. The idea he had other women had haunted her ever since the first time the masked man had swept into her life. _Madre de Dios_ , she felt sick to her stomach, just making it to the back door before retching.

Z Z Z

Diego was getting restless. He and Violetta had looked at most of the wares on display, which hadn't differed much from the last time they had attended the market. Glancing around, he groaned as he saw that his father and Señora Gomez were chatting with Don Esteban and his wife, Doña Carmen, the pueblo's two most notorious gossips. It was highly unlikely they would be leaving the pueblo any time soon.

While he had been preoccupied, Violetta had steered him to a booth of cleverly carved toys. She picked up a ball and cup and began trying to catch the ball in the cup. Her first few attempts failed but she tried again and squealed with laughter as the ball landed in the cup. 

It felt as though a fist hit his stomach. She literally took his breath away at that moment, laughing and looking so happy while playing with the toy. _Dios mio_ , he wasn't falling for her, was he? How could he? He loved Victoria. Right? But she doesn't love you, the voice inside his head said. She'll never love you. 

Shaking his head to clear it of its traitorous thoughts, he watched as Violetta picked up another toy, a little man whose arms and legs flailed about when an attached string was pulled. He noticed a wistful smile on her face as she played with it.

"You and your brother loved playing with those," her mother said as she and Don Alejandro walked up beside them.

Violetta immediately set the little man back down on the makeshift table. "It's just a silly toy," she said tightly.

An awkward moment passed before the elder de la Vega cleared his throat. "I'm feeling thirsty," he declared. "Why don't we go over to the tavern for some lemonade?" 

"Oh, I don't know," said Emilia, a frown creasing her brow. "Señorita Escalante might not. . ."

The old don waved his hand nonchalantly. "I am sure it will be fine," he said. "Let's go."

Diego shook his head at his father's obliviousness, positive the lovely innkeeper had not forgotten the reason she had tossed the two women out of her establishment. Plastering a smile on his face, he offered his arm to Violetta.

Moments later, they had stepped onto the tavern's porch. "Perhaps we should sit outside," suggested Diego. "It's such a beautiful day." Thankfully everyone agreed and the men helped the ladies into their chairs.

Victoria came bustling out of the building then stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes as she saw them sitting at the table. " _Buenas dias_ ," she said with a grimace that was really quite terrifying. 

"Four lemonades, _por favor_ ," the elder de la Vega requested.

She nodded tersely and went back inside. Señora Gomez placed her hand on Don Alejandro's arm. "I think she is still upset with us. I don't even really understand what took place that night, but it had something to do with that outlaw, Zorro."

"It was just a misunderstanding, Mama," Violetta said. "The señorita thought he was there to see me for some reason. Ridiculous, I don't know why Zorro would want to meet me."

Victoria let them know of her return, flopping the tray she had been carrying down onto the table, causing the lemonade to slosh out of the glasses. Diego could see by her sullen countenance she had heard the other woman's comments.

Violetta reached for one of the cups before adding, "Zorro was quite the gentleman, however. And even though most of his face was hidden by his mask, I could tell he was very handsome. ‘Tis a pity he's a wanted criminal."

Diego thought he was going to have to keep Victoria from lunging for the young widow's throat. He could almost see the smoke streaming out of her ears. With a loud "huh", she spun on her heel and stomped back inside her tavern. His father shrugged as he handed one of the glasses to Señora Gomez before taking one for himself. 

Reaching for the remaining cup, Diego eyed it with suspicion, wondering if Victoria was spiteful enough to have spit in it. He glanced over at Violetta who was serenely sipping her drink as if she hadn't a care in the world. He had seen this vindictive side of her before, and he didn't like it. She had made those remarks about Zorro to deliberately bait Victoria, and the innkeeper had let the other woman goad her into a rage that had not been pretty to witness. 

It had to stop. He had to escape from the web of the sexual fascination she had trapped him in, causing him to act out of character. Neglecting his studies, Felipe, Toronado, everything he had cared about before she had wormed her way into his bed.

It had to end. And by God, he would put a stop to it that very night.

Z Z Z

Diego rolled onto his back, his breathing harsh, before turning onto his side and drawing Violetta into his arms. A move that had become a habit without either of them noticing. She had slipped into his room when he hadn't come to hers, and he had succumbed to her seduction with nary a qualm, the vow he had made that afternoon shattering like glass.

She wiggled closer with a satisfied sigh and he tightened his hold. Why couldn't he resist her? He hardly knew anything about her. Which reminded him. . .

"I didn't know you had a brother," he said as he ran his finger down the length of her arm, then taking her hand in his.

Violetta immediately pulled away and started to get out of the bed, groping about for her robe. "Wait," Diego pleaded, "don't leave. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She sighed as she sank back down onto the mattress. "No, I'm sorry," she said. "My brother died fighting the French about a year before Antonio died,"

"Oh, my condolences," he said sincerely.

" _Gracias_." She rolled over onto her side. "I miss him more than I miss my husband. Does that make me a bad person?"

Diego was taken aback at her confession. "No, I don't think it does," he replied after he had gathered his thoughts. "You obviously knew your brother longer than. . .Antonio," he said, reluctant to bring up his old friend's name after he had just had relations with his widow. "Of course you would miss him more." He stroked her hair away from her face. "My mother died when I was twelve and I miss her every day. But I think I would miss my father more if something were to happen to him, God forbid." 

"That makes me feel better," she said, twining her arms behind his neck. "But I can think of something that would make me feel even happier." 

She brought her lips to his, bringing their conversation to an end. Diego landed on his back once again as she straddled him and their bodies began communicating without words.

Z Z Z

"This came for you, _Patrón_." Maria, the housekeeper, said as she handed an envelope to Diego.

His heart skipped a beat. His name was written on the outside, in the same scrawling handwriting as the letter that had been addressed to Zorro. _Madre de Dios_. "Wait," he called out as she started to leave. "How was this delivered?"

"One of the boys from the pueblo," she replied. "I believe his name is Juanito, the blacksmith's son." Diego nodded, as he was familiar with many of the young lads who loved to run errands and deliver messages. 

"Will that be all?" asked the housekeeper, impatience creeping into her voice.

"What. . .? Yes, of course. _Gracias_." 

Diego waited until she had disappeared before glancing down at the missive in his hand. He battled a minute or two between fear and curiosity before the latter won out and he tore it open.

' _I know what you are doing. There will be consequences_.' Two sentences this time, unsigned once again. But just as cryptic and threatening.

What did it mean? He did a lot of things. But there were only two that would result in dire consequences if they were revealed. 

Felipe was the only person who knew he was Zorro and that he was having an affair with Violetta. Well, she knew, but she would hardly blackmail herself. If this was indeed blackmail. Which it certainly appeared to be. 

_Maldita sea_. Maybe she was behind all of this. He only had her word the first letter was from her husband. She could be lying. But. . . It was naive of him, but they had begun to open up to each other, although their confidences were brief, compared to the physical side of their liaison. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to trust her. And he hated to admit that somewhere deep inside him, he was starting to have feelings for her. Feelings he pretended not to feel. Feelings that made him question his love for Victoria.

He looked down and saw he had crumpled the paper in his fist. His life was veering out of control and he had no idea how to steer himself back on course. Although, if he wanted to be honest, his life had been out of his control from the first moment he put on the black silk mask. 

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe he needed to tear away all the masks he had been hiding behind and expose the true man beneath. Or maybe. . .maybe he just needed to visit Victoria, to remind himself of the reasons why he loved her. He had been avoiding her of late, both as Diego and his alter ego. The guilt and shame that rose like bile in his throat every time he saw her. . .well, it was easier to not see her.

But before he went anywhere, he needed to see a sample of Violetta's handwriting, if only to eliminate her as a suspect. He just had to figure out how to go about obtaining one.

Z Z Z

Miraculously, his chance came that very afternoon when Violetta and her mother approached him in the library, where he had been pretending to read a book on animal husbandry. He set aside the volume as he rose to his feet.

"I was hoping you could take these to town for us, Diego," said Señora Gomez, holding out a handful of letters. "I would ask Alejandro but he's busy doing something out in the stables." Which was one way to describe overseeing the shoeing of the yearling horses, he supposed.

"Of course." He accepted the envelopes the older woman proffered. "I would be delighted." He turned to Violetta. "Perhaps you would like to accompany me?"

" _Gracias_ , but no," she said. "I have a pounding headache. I'm going to take a nap. I've been having trouble sleeping at night." She gave him a saucy wink he hoped her mother hadn't seen.

"Oh, thank you, Diego," Emilia said. "I haven't written to my sister for a fortnight and she gets frantic if she doesn't get a letter from me every week. Alejandro said the mail coach goes out today and I didn't want to miss it."

The two women left and Diego shuffled through the missives, noticing that although their handwriting was similar, there were differences. And neither matched the scrawl of the message he had received that morning.

So Violetta was not his mysterious correspondent. _Gracias a Dios_. But he was still left with questions. Mainly who was writing the letters and what exactly did they want?

Z Z Z

Much later that night, he made his second trip to the pueblo, only this time he was dressed head to toe in black and would remain hidden in the shadows as he sneaked around to the rear of the tavern. The windows of two upstairs rooms were aglow, and he could see light streaming out from the cracks of the back door.

Within seconds, he was standing in the kitchen, watching as Victoria pumped more water into the sink of dirty dishes. She spun around in a manner that made him swear she had a special intuition whenever he was near.

"Zorro! What are you doing here?" she asked with a catch in her voice. She looked so beautiful but her smile was tremulous and her dark eyes contained a hint of sadness. Guilt racked his body, and he ducked his head, taking a deep breath before he approached her.

"I came to see you, _querida_." He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. Feeling her tremble beneath his kiss, he lost all of his composure. "I. . .It. . .It has been too long. . .I should have. . ."

"I understand," she said as his excuses trailed off. "It's been quiet of late. I have missed you though."

"As I you," he returned automatically, even though it was mostly a lie. He had been deliberately blocking thoughts of her from his mind when he was with Violetta. He didn't always succeed though and the shame of the situation rose in him again.

She gazed up at him expectantly, but the usual glib words refused to materialize. Bringing his hand up to touch her face, he caressed her cheek before lowering his mouth to hers. She melted against him, returning the kiss with a fervor that had always kept him off kilter. 

"Señorita Escalante, if I might trouble you for. . ." Zorro tore his lips away as a man stopped speaking as he entered the kitchen. The shocked expression on the other man's face had to be a mirror of his own.

Domingo Maldonado. His old university rival. Here in Los Angeles. 

_Dios mio, so this was what it felt like to have your whole world explode._

Z Z Z


	9. Chapter 9

It all became clear to him. Domingo, Violetta, the letters. It was blackmail. Give in to Maldonado's demands or both of his secrets would be exposed to the world. Well, not if he could help it. There had to be another way out of this quagmire.

A hand placed on his arm made him aware of his surroundings once again and to the fact he and his rival were still staring speechlessly at each other. He glanced down to see the befuddlement in Victoria's eyes.

"I have to go," he murmured. She nodded numbly. Looking up again, he saw Domingo's upper lip curl.

"Leaving so soon, er, Zorro? Isn't that what you call yourself?" the other man drawled, pointedly ogling the hilt of the sword strapped to the masked man's hip. "And here I was hoping we could have a cozy chat. I admit to being an avid follower of you and your exploits."

"I think you know where to find me, Señor," snapped Zorro. He needed to leave, before this conversation went any further. " _Buenas noches_." He pivoted on his heel, his cape swirling in his wake as he slipped out the way he had entered.

Victoria, her mind awhirl, watched him depart before turning to her guest. "What was. . .?"

"Another blanket, _por favor_ ," he said as if he hadn't interrupted himself when he had stumbled into her kitchen, catching her in a scandalous embrace with a known outlaw. 

"Oh, of course," she replied. "I'll bring it right up." Smoothing her hands on her apron, she wondered if she should bring up what had just occurred. But before she could decide, he smiled at her, his handsome face alight with pleasure.

" _Gracias_ , Señorita," he said before he started backing through the curtains. "I would greatly appreciate that." Then, right before he disappeared, he winked.

What was that all about? The whole episode seemed like a crazy dream. She had seen the guilt in Zorro's eyes before he had kissed her. She had seen the way the two men had glared at each other as though they knew and detested each other. And why did her guest, what was his name. . .Maldonado. . .seem so delighted by it all?

Victoria sighed, knowing she might never learn the answers to her questions. With a shake of her head, she wearily began to wash the day's accumulation of dirty plates and glasses.

Z Z Z

Diego was on edge. Every noise had him jumping out of his skin. He hadn't gone straight back to the hacienda from the tavern after the disastrous visit, instead spending hours riding until both he and Toronado were too tired to go on. It was almost dawn before he approached his room with an apprehension that had been replaced with relief when he saw his bed was empty.

And fortuitously, his father had escorted both widows on a visit to their nearest neighbor, Señora Valverdes right after they had breakfasted that morning. So when Diego finally entered the dining room, it was deserted. He felt like a coward, but he didn't think he could face Violetta until he knew the extent of her involvement in Maldonado's scheme. And he was afraid even if he found out it had been entirely her idea, he would still succumb to her charms. And it excited him as much as it sickened him.

A knock on the front door caused him to spill his coffee onto the tablecloth. Diego watched remotely as the brown liquid spread across the white linen as a servant answered the summons. He didn't even try to hear the exchange of words. The time of reckoning had arrived. Shoving himself upward, he walked out of the room, almost colliding with Maria. 

"You have a caller, _Patrón_ ," she announced as he strode past her.

"I know. Thank you."

Diego came to a halt in the foyer. Domingo, standing at the entrance to the library, turned and smirked triumphantly.

" _Buenos dias_ , Diego," he said cheerfully. "You were right, I did know where to find you." 

"Outside. Now."

"But your hacienda is so charming. A bit quaint, yet charming all the same," said Maldonado. "I had always imagined you living in a mud hovel here in the wilds of California."

"Yes, I know what you thought, you reminded me of it often enough," replied Diego, clenching his jaw and fists. "Your descriptions of the inferiority of the colonies and the barbarians who settled them were always so eloquent."

"Still touchy about that, eh, de la Vega?" The other man stepped closer. "It's gratifying to know I can still get under your skin. And speaking of skin, or should that be sin. . .?"

"Outside." Diego strode over to the door, wrenching it open, in a gesture he hoped would brook no argument from his rival.

"If you insist." Maldonado walked through the portal and down the front steps with Diego on his heels. Diego lead the other man to a small courtyard that was seldom used. The one where he and Sir Edmund had engaged in swordplay before the saber master had been hunted down and killed. Once there, he indicated a small bench for Domingo to sit upon.

"I knew it was you from the moment I heard that a masked man was running around Los Angeles, brandishing a magnificent saber," Maldonado said as he remained standing. "Who else could be so naive and so self-righteous, I asked myself."

"I am bringing justice to the people who have no other defender," retorted Diego. "I'm saving them from oppression and misery and poverty. I am. . ."

"You always were an idealist fool," the other man sneered. "And now you're an outlaw with a price on your head. Which, oddly enough, is the price of my silence about your little masquerade."

"Six thousand pesos, that's all you want?" Diego acted as though such a sum was trifling amount, when it was almost equal to the amount his father had in the accounts he held in several different banks. And that was his father's money, not his. His own wealth was considerably less.

"No. There is also the matter of you sleeping with the lovely Violetta." 

So, there it was. The proof she was complicit in this nefarious scheme against him. How else would Maldonado know of their relationship? Only three people knew, and never, in a million years, no matter how upset he was by it, did Diego see Felipe betraying him to a blackmailer. It had to be her.

"And how much will your silence cost on that matter?"

"I was thinking four thousand pesos. Ten thousand pesos seems like such a nice tidy sum." The other man grinned, no doubt assured he had Diego between Scylla and Charybdis.

"Yes, it does," Diego agreed insincerely. "A pity I have no intention of paying you a centavo of it."

"You would let me expose you to the world?" Maldonado sounded incredulous. "Diego de la Vega, the masked hero of Los Angeles, the wanted outlaw, and the seducer of married women?"

"Antonio Murillo is dead," Diego ground out. "Did you have anything to do with that?"

"Me?" asked Domingo innocently. "No, that was purely an accident, an accident that nearly destroyed my plans for you." He shook his head. "No, I mean the woman you've been fucking is a married woman. I should know, I am her husband."

Diego's legs started to give out and he had to grab at the nearest wall to keep himself upright. His stomach roiled as his head spun. _No, Dios mio, no._ He wouldn't have touched her, wouldn't have put his. . . Maldonado had to be lying. Wouldn't have Violetta's mother known her daughter had remarried? Unless she had kept it a secret from the older woman. _Madre de Dios_ , this was a nightmare.

"Oh, it's true, de la Vega. I have proof." Diego glanced up to see his rival's gloating smile. A rage came over him, so swift and so violent, he didn't realize he had punched the other man several times until Domingo had fallen to the ground, wiping blood from his nose.

"You'll pay for that," Maldonado said as he struggled to his feet. "Tomorrow, at dawn. You know the area, you pick the place. Oh, and swords, of course."

"I will not duel with you." His anger had been replaced by a sense of calm detachment. "It's against the law."

"And we both are so law-abiding." Domingo chuckled. "Tomorrow," he reiterated. "And bring the money."

With that, he stalked away, laughing softly to himself. Diego just watched him go. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. His life, his honor, devastated by the one person who had always managed to provoke him like no one else ever could. Maldonado had needled him from the day they had first met for reasons Diego still could not fathom. It was as if Diego's mere of existence was cause enough. 

But before he could brood on his dilemma any further, he heard creaky wheels drawing up in front of the hacienda. As bad as his luck was running, it was probably the elder de la Vega and the women and if Maldonado had lingered. . .

Diego sprinted to the front courtyard, relieved to see his father assisting the ladies from the carriage and his old nemesis nowhere in sight. _Gracias a Dios_. 

"Diego, who was that man riding away from the house?" asked Don Alejandro when he noticed his son.

"Oh, just a traveler asking for directions," he lied with a joviality he did not feel. His gaze fell upon Violetta, whom he noted was pale and fidgety. She had obviously recognized Maldonado and realized the day of reckoning had arrived. He needed to wring a confession from her before she did something drastic, like flee. Or worse.

"I wonder if I might take Violetta out to the pasture to show her the new calves?" He directed the invitation at Señora Gomez, who glanced at his father. The old don nodded. 

"Very well, but not for too long," the older woman admonished. "You should take a nap when you get back, _hija_. You look tired."

"We'll only be a few minutes." Diego grabbed Violetta's hand and placed it on his arm before she could come up with an excuse, and headed off in the direction of the nearest pasture.

She spoke as soon as they were out of earshot. "You know, don't you." It wasn't even a question.

"Yes, I know everything," he spat out. "I know you lied to me."

"He made me do it." Tears began to stream down her cheeks. "He blackmailed my husband first. Antonio. . .he had an affair and Maldonado found out and used it to force Antonio to deliver a letter to you. After he found out Antonio's ship sank, he came to me to pay his respects. He kept coming to visit me until one day he. . .he. . ."

She threw herself against Diego, who had to put his arms around her to keep her from tumbling them both to the ground. "What did he do?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. "Did he force himself. . .?

He felt Violetta nod her head on his chest. "Then he told me he would tell everyone it was my idea and ruin my reputation. I. . .I had no choice. 

A rush of sympathy swept through him, one he immediately quashed. "You had a choice. You could have told me about his plot. . . You could have. . ."

"No, you don't understand, I didn't want to do it," she cried. "I. . .I fell in love with you. I couldn't help myself. Please, Diego, just give him the money and he will leave us alone and we can be together. . ."

Pushing her away, Diego stumbled over to lean against a tree. "He says you are his wife. Is that true?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I didn't want to, he forced me to marry him. He said it was too delicious an idea to pass up." She reached out with her hands. " _Por favor_ , I didn't want to do any of this. . ."

He brushed her aside. "I wouldn't have touched you if I had known you were a married woman. I wouldn't have gone anywhere near you if I had known you were married to him. You've caused me to break vows I have made to myself, vows I have made to other people. If I never see you again, it would be too soon."

Diego tried to walk away but she grasped his arm. "Please, no. I love you. Please believe me. You can't leave me." Catching him off-guard, she managed to press him up against the tree then crushed her body onto his. "Please, Diego, let me show you how much I love you."

Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his trousers, reaching inside and grasping his hardening shaft. He groaned as she knelt down and took him into her mouth. It felt so good, he never wanted it to stop. He had almost lost himself in the pleasure when the image of Maldonado's sneering face floated through his mind. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he shoved her away, uncharacteristically not caring as she fell on her bottom. 

"Stay away from me," he warned as he did up his buttons. "I don't care how much you love me. I. . .I don't feel the same way," he fibbed. "You need to go back to your husband. I'm through with you."

Marching away, he fought the urge to glance over his shoulder to see if she was all right. _I don't care. I can't care._ He could feel his nails digging into his palms, his hands were so tightly fisted. He had bigger problems at the moment. Even though he told Maldonado he wouldn't duel, he really had no other option. He certainly did not want the other man to seek him out, in a public venue, and force the matter. That was one of the things Domingo excelled at, bullying others to do his bidding. 

Once he had reached the hacienda, he went to his desk and scribbled out the place where he would meet his rival, drawing a map that even a simpleton would be able to follow. After the message had been dispatched, Diego retreated to the cave, where he spent the rest of the day and night, too ashamed to face his father or Felipe, and too vulnerable to see Violetta without the probability he would succumb to her sexual charms yet again.

An hour before dawn, he rode his mare out of the stables to a small arroyo about a mile north of the pueblo.

Z Z Z

"Ah, Diego, glad you could make it." Maldonado, in his shirtsleeves, was practicing his lunges as Diego rode up to the rendezvous site. A small boy from the pueblo held the reins of his horse, a glossy chestnut. "Did you bring the money?"

"No, " Diego replied as he dismounted. He then walked over to the lad and handed him a coin. "Go home, Roberto." 

The youngster glanced nervously at Domingo then took off running. The other man laughed. "So, no witnesses, eh, de la Vega? Don't want anyone to know how proficient you are with a saber?" He nodded at the sword on Diego's hip. "That's not the championship sword."

"No, it isn't." Diego unsheathed his old school saber from its scabbard.

Maldonado shrugged. "No matter. I will find it after I kill you. It never should have been yours in the first place. I was Kendall's best student. Until you tricked him into thinking you were. How did you do it, de la Vega?" He tossed his sword from one hand to the other. 

"Is this what all this is about?," Diego asked incredulously. "Sir Edmund's sword?"

"I worked harder than you, " Domingo's voice had a touch of hysteria to it. "It should have been mine."

"I proved to him I was the best student," Diego stated confidently. "And it will never be yours."

"We will see about that," said Maldonado, whipping his sword upright. " _En garde!_ " 

Then he attacked.

Z Z Z


	10. Chapter 10

Diego raised his weapon to parry Maldonado's unsportsmanlike assault with only a second to spare. Their swords remained pressed to together for a long moment, long enough for Diego to see the hatred and madness in the other man's eyes. A horrible thought crossed his mind. He pushed off, sending Domingo flying backward.

"You were the one who accused Sir Edmund of revolutionary activities, aren't you?" Diego didn't wait for a response before continuing, "You killed him just as surely as if the bullet came from your own gun."

Maldonado lunged again, a wild thrust that Diego easily blocked. "It was so satisfying to hear of that traitor's death, especially since you got to witness it," he said, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.

A red haze blurred Diego's vision for a second, but he shook it off. The first rule Sir Edmund had taught him: Don't give into your anger. Which lead to the second rule: Make your opponent angry. "I find it amusing that you have spent all these years seeking revenge against me," he taunted. "I've barely given you a second thought."

Diego smirked as he saw the fury in the other man's eyes. Maldonado attacked blindly, forgetting everything their saber master had taught them. Good, keep him off balance. Speaking of which. . . Diego drove Domingo back, toward a good-sized rock that lie in the other man's path. The third rule: Make use of any weapon at your disposal. Just as he hoped, Maldonado stumbled over the rock, awkwardly landing on his ass.

He never got a chance to capitalize on the mishap as Domingo picked up the offending object and flung it at Diego's head. It missed him by a few inches as he dodged out of the way. His opponent regained his footing and they engaged once more.

The sounds of steel on steel filled the arroyo, but even so, Diego could hear someone shouting. Forcing himself to ignore the intruder, he focused his concentration on Maldonado. Until the other man's eyes grew wide with surprise then narrowed with annoyance, and he lowered his saber.

"No! Stop!" Violetta rushed into the clearing, panting for breath as she came to a halt between them. "You can't kill him, I won't let you."

Diego was unsure as to whom she was directing her words. Her intended target became clearer when she pulled a pistol from her skirt pocket and aimed it at Domingo. 

"Put that away, Violetta," he said, raising his hands. "You wouldn't want me to tell him of your part in all this."

"He already knows," she stated, her voice trembling with a mixture of panic and fear. "He's not the fool you thought he was, Domingo." 

"Put the pistol down," Diego suggested, creeping closer. 

She glanced anxiously over her shoulder at him. "He hates you, Diego. He means to kill you," she said, keeping her attention and her gun trained on the other man. "I won't let him. I love you."

Maldonado took a step toward her. "You stupid _puta_ ," he snapped. "After I take care of de la Vega, I'm going to show you how a wife is to obey her husband." He chuckled, a touch of madness mingled with his mirth. "Maybe I will make him die slowly so he can watch me fuck the woman he loves."

Violetta laughed hysterically. "He doesn't love me," she said. "He won't care what you do to me." She cocked the pistol and pointed it at Domingo's heart. "But I care what you do to him, and I'm not going to let you murder him."

The pair of them were so fixated on the other, Diego had moved within a meter behind Violetta, hoping they would keep talking so he could remove her from harm's way. That was when disaster struck. 

His toe kicked a pebble, sending it skittering across the ground. Violetta and Maldonado both looked at him, astonishment registering on their faces. Whipping back around, she gripped the gun as she advanced on the other man before tripping on a tree root. Domingo raised his sword in a defensive manner as she tumbled toward him. 

What happened next would haunt Diego's dreams for the rest of his life. Violetta was impaled on the saber at the same time she pulled the trigger, shooting Maldonado right in the heart. He fell backward, pulling her down on top of him, driving his blade into her until it jutted from her back.

Diego dropped his sword and rushed over to them. Getting down on one knee, he felt for pulses, first on Domingo, and when he didn't find one there, checked for Violetta's. There was an almost indiscernible flutter. She was still alive, _Madre de Dios_. Then he looked at where the sword had entered her and winced. It had thrust upward at a forty-five degree angle on her left side, surely piercing a lung and possibly her heart.   
"Diego."

He glanced up at her face when he heard her whisper. Bringing his other hand up to her cheek, he said, "Shh, save your strength. You are. . ."

"I'm so sorry, Diego," she interrupted, her words barely audible, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "I love you."

Realizing she had seconds to live, and because it wasn't truly a lie, he murmured, "I love you, too."

An brief smile touched her lips then faded. The tiny flicker under his fingers ceased.

Z Z Z

"There they are!"

The youthful shout shook Diego out of his stupor. He rose to his feet to see the young boy Roberto leading a crowd of people toward the arroyo. Evidently neither he nor Maldonado had paid the lad enough to buy his silence about their duel. 

Diego's heart sank when he saw de Soto and Mendoza following right behind the boy. But then, he scolded himself, what did he think was going to happen? That he could just walk away and not have to explain the two dead people lying on the ground before him? The pistol shot alone would have called attention to anyone nearby, as no one hunted this close to the pueblo, any game in the area long gone.

"Diego! What happened here?" The alcalde reached the clearing, huffing and puffing, although not as much as his sergeant. 

"I told you," Roberto chimed in, "they were having a duel."

De Soto chuckled, apparently amused Diego could do something so strenuous as pick up a sword. "So is what the lad says true? You were dueling with this fellow. . ." He stepped closer to the bodies, then gasped. "That's Domingo Maldonado!" he exclaimed. "He is. . . I know him." Leaning over to get a better look, he put his hand to his mouth for a moment. "He's dead."

Mendoza crossed himself as did most of the onlookers. "And so is Señora Murillo," the commandante added. He straightened and stared at Diego. "Just what did happen here, de la Vega?," he asked accusingly. "I remember. . .you and Maldonado. . .you and I only shared the one year at university, but everyone knew about the rivalry between the two of you. Would you care to explain to me why the man you hated is now dead at your feet?"

"I never hated him," declared Diego. "Although I don't expect you to believe it. The animosity was all his. I only did what I had to do to defend myself against his hostility."

"And is that what happened here?"

"I don't think Don Diego killed either of them, _mi alcalde_ ," the stout sergeant said, staring at the disturbing tableau. "It looks like they killed each other."

De Soto glared at Mendoza, no doubt upset by the fact if it was so obvious that even his dull-witted subordinate had figured out what had occurred, he would look like an idiot if he didn't come to the same conclusion. "Well, of course it does, Sergeant," he retorted. "Any fool can see that." He turned his attention back to Diego. "You were lucky the widow interfered, de la Vega. Maldonado was a master swordsman, from what I hear," the alcalde sneered. "He would have sliced you to ribbons." 

Diego ignored the other man's gibes. He wished to be alone, to fester in his guilt and grief, horrified by his feelings of relief neither his identity nor his affair would be exposed. 

"I should arrest you for illegal dueling," said de Soto, who then let out an exasperated sigh. "But as there are no witnesses, you are free to go." 

Turning to his sergeant, he ordered, "Gather up some volunteers and take the bodies back to town, Sergeant. Report to me when you are finished." With that, he pivoted on his heel and strode out of the clearing. 

Mendoza shrugged then waved his hand at a few of the men who still lingered. Diego watched impassively as they removed Violetta and Maldonado from the arroyo and carried them back to the pueblo. Once the last of the stragglers had departed, he bent down to pick up his sword. He stared at its shiny blade, unstained by the blood shed that day. He, who had so much to lose, was allowed to walk away. It wasn't right. Two people were dead. Murdered by his secrets.

Z Z Z

Later that evening, Diego was sitting at his desk in the cave, idly twirling a quill, as he stared at the blank sheet of parchment before him. Why had he offered to write to Maldonado's family to inform them of his death? Guilt, of course, along with a healthy dose of self punishment. Neither of those helped him form the words of condolence he needed to pen, nor to stir up any sympathy for the parents who had raised a bully and a blackmailer. What could one say? He tossed the quill on the desk.

He had gone with De Soto and Mendoza to search Maldonado's belongings, finding nothing but clothing, money, and a handful of letters, some meant to send back to Spain, and one for Diego. Thankfully, its message was as cryptic as the first two: ' _The day of reckoning is close at hand_.' The alcalde didn't even question it. "Closer than he thought, eh?" he had joked crassly.

Diego was stirred from his musings when he heard footsteps. Rising from his chair, he exhaled nervously as Felipe entered the cave. 

"Felipe, I am sorry," he began to apologize, "what I did is unfor. . . ."

The youth had crossed the distance between them, cutting off his words as he threw his arms around him. Diego returned the embrace before Felipe took a step back, his hands gesturing frantically. He had heard about the duel, and was glad Diego was unharmed. That he was sorry he had spilled wine on Señora Murillo, he had done it on purpose, to stop her from revealing Diego's lessons with Sir Edmund. And he had acted so rudely when he found out about the. . . the affair because he was afraid that Diego might marry her and she would make Diego send him away. 

Diego placed his hands on the lad's shoulders. "I would never do that, Felipe," he reassured him. "You're a part of this family, no matter who else might join it." Sighing, he continued, "And I am sorry. What I did was wrong, in more ways than you can imagine. I can only hope to be forgiven some day."

Felipe signed he was forgiven now. And he was ready for those saber lessons he had rejected when Diego first offered them. Diego smiled wryly. "We can start next week. I think my time will be consumed for the next few days."

The lad nodded gravely, then gestured that dinner was almost ready. Diego shook his head, he wasn't hungry. The notion of sitting at the table with his father and Señora Gomez filled him with shame. But then, what better penance could he perform than having to spend time with the mother of the woman whose death he had caused? "I had better put in an appearance," he said glumly.

Felipe sprinted up to the viewing hole, giving the all clear signal after peering through it. Diego trudged up the steps to the tunnel.

Half an hour later, Diego pushed his food around his plate, noting his dinner companions were doing the same. A somber mood hung over the table, the only conversation trite observations about the meal and polite inquiries to pass the salt. 

Don Alejandro cleared his throat, disrupting the silence. "Emilia, I have a question. . ."

"I am going back to Spain," she cut in, pulling her napkin from her lap. "I cannot stay here in Los Angeles. I just cannot." Diego could see the pain in her eyes, and understood she could not remain in the place where her daughter had died. "I. . .I have a sister in Seville," she said. "I will leave as soon as. . . as soon as it can be arranged."

The elder de la Vega's face was grim, but he smiled at the woman Diego knew he had meant to ask to be his wife before the unfortunate events of the day had turned their world upside down. "Of course," he acquiesced gracefully. "I can take care of everything, if that meets with your approval?"

"Si, that would be fine." The señora got to her feet, as did the gentlemen. "Excuse me. I must. . ." She did not finish her sentence, instead hurrying out of the dining room. His father glanced at him, pain and sorrow clearly etched into each line of his countenance. Tossing his napkin onto the table, he, too, quitted the room.

Diego plopped back down into his chair. More sorrow, caused by his secrets. When would it end?

Z Z Z

A month later, Victoria found Diego sitting in the courtyard of the de la Vega hacienda. Don Alejandro had expressed his concern for his son during his visit to the tavern the previous day and suggested she might be able to cheer him up.

Looking at him, she doubted the elder de la Vega's faith in her. Diego appeared to be utterly defeated, hunched over with his face in his hands. He wasn't crying. . .was he?

"Diego," she said softly, walking up to him and placing her hand on his shoulder. 

She must have startled him because he leapt to his feet, staring at her like she was a ghost. "Victoria," he whispered.

"Your father sent me," she volunteered. "I have been wanting to talk to you. . ."

"You know, don't you."

It wasn't even a question. "Yes," she confirmed, "I saw you with her at the market one day and. . .

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he confessed. "I don't know what came over me. It was like she cast a spell on me." He shook his head. "But that is not an excuse," he added harshly. "I know what I did was wrong and I will understand if you can never forgive me. I cannot expect you to when I can't even forgive myself."

He sank back onto the bench as if he were both physically and mentally drained. Victoria sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers. "You told me yourself you are a man with. . .with needs." She could feel the warmth creep up her cheeks. 

"That is no excuse, either. I should be able to control those needs. That I failed so miserably. . ." He pulled away, using his hands to hide his face once more. 

"Did you love her?"

He lifted his head. "What?"

"Did you love her?" she repeated.

Shaking his head, he said, "No, not like that. I mean, I grew fond of her, but it was nothing like. . ." He stared at her, a curious light filling his green eyes. "It was nothing like how I love you."

Victoria's mouth fell open. Oh, no, no, no. . . He couldn't be saying this. He couldn't be. . .

"You are the woman I love," he declared. "It has always been you."

"But. . . But. . ."

"But you love Zorro and I'm just a fool." Lowering his head, he stared at the ground.

"No, you're not. But how can you love me and still. . ."

"Men are pigs," he said, looking up at her once again, a wry smile on his lips. "As you are so often fond of saying." He sighed wearily. "Tell me, if Zorro did what I did, do you love him enough to forgive him?"

"I. . .I. . don't know," she stammered, surprised by his question. And disturbed. "Zorro would never. . ."

"Are you sure of that? He is a man, with needs, just like me. Maybe he has been as foolish as I have been? Do you love him enough to forgive him if he slept with another woman?"

"I. . .I don't know," she said again. A thought hit her then. One that had her narrowing her eyes. "Have you heard something? Something you're not telling me?"

Diego got to his feet. "You don't even know who Zorro is. He could be anyone. He could be a fool who was tempted and failed, just like me. Would you be able to forgive him?" 

"I. . .I don't know," she said for the third time. And honestly, she didn't. She did love him, with all her heart and soul. But to forgive what should be unforgivable? She just didn't know.

"Just remember, he's a man, just like me," he said. " _Buenas tardes_." With that, Diego strode inside the hacienda, leaving her alone to dwell on his questions. And to wonder why the answers meant so much to him.

Why would he care if she forgave Zorro or not? Why? Unless. . . No. She turned to stare in the direction he had taken. It couldn't possibly be true. She was just being silly. Wasn't she?

Z Z Z

**FIN**


End file.
